That Kiss Was
by Aithril the Elf-Maiden
Summary: Originally a oneshot, now continued. The twins finally get in trouble for their incestuous tendencies. Or do they? And about that kiss...
1. That Kiss Was

**A/N: **Bet you guys didn't expect to see me in this fandom, did you? I wrote this fic as a present for my roommate. We agreed that if she drew the twins for me, I'd write a fic for her. Please tell me if you like the result and especially tell me what to improve upon-- I've never written any Ouran High School Host Club before! Enjoy.

**Summary**: (Oneshot.) The twins finally get in trouble for their incestuous tendencies. Or do they? And about that kiss...

* * *

**That Kiss Was**

* * *

"Neh, Hikaru?" 

My eyes slowly move from their fixed point on the blank wall across the room to focus on my twin. He sits in a chair beside mine, perched on its edge in a way that isn't comfortable. The right corner of my mouth tugs up in an involuntary smile. Despite the predicament we're in, there's no way I can stay anxious when I see the cute look of worry on Kaoru's face. "Yes?" I answer. My hand twitches, wanting to stroke the side the curve of his cheek… but that's what got us into this mess.

"Do you think…" His lovely eyes—my eyes—our eyes—are troubled as he forms the sentence. "… do you think—"

"—that we'll be here long?" I muse. "I don't know." I hesitate, then raise a hand and stroke his hair.

Surely, _surely_, that can't be considered dirty in anyone's mind.

To stroke your twin's hair is to comfort him. Kaoru closes his eyes briefly, letting me take on some of his fear.

To tell the truth—which he already knows, even if I haven't said it—we could be here for a while.

I look around again, surveying the room that I've already seen and dismissed as boring from the beginning. Four boring stark white walls. One boring, windowless white door. Two boring chairs that we occupy on one side of a boring table. One green chair on the other side of the table. The green chair's the thing that's actually not boring. It has some writing on it. I lean forward a little and squint across the distance of the table to make it out: WELCOME TO THE PSYCHO WARD.

My mouth twitches wryly. What excellent detail.

The door finally opens, startling both Kaoru and I into flinching. I drop my hand from his head. The air outside is warmer than the air inside, and we both lean toward it for a brief moment. Then we shrink back.

Through the doorway comes a small, balding man who is glaring at us from the start. He slams the door shut behind him, marches across the room in more steps than I'd use to cover twice the distance, then sits down in the chair. It's a bit low. We loom over him even sitting down. If he notices, he doesn't say anything.

"Hitachin Kaoru and Hitachin Hikaru?" he asks, looking at both of us. Unseen to him, I take Kaoru's hand beneath the table and give it a squeeze.

"Hai," we answer in unison.

"My name is Domoro," he says. Although his Japanese is perfect, he's clearly American by birth or he would've added a 'san' onto the end of it. "Do you boys know why you're here today?"

My eyes slide cat-like from his face to Kaoru's.

"No," my twin answers softly. Domoro looks at him skeptically, but Kaoru's act is flawless, almost slightly more flawless than mine.

Almost.

"Right," Domoro says, still doubtful. "In that case, could you boys tell me what you were up to today?"

My lip twitches. I don't like how he keeps saying 'you boys'. In fact, it really ticks me off. My hand must clench around Kaoru's because he squeezes it slightly in warning.

"At school," he answers smoothly to cover for me. "We went to school today. Is that what you wanted to know?"

"Did anything happen at school?"

Did anything happen? "Just the usual," I reply with a deadpan expression.

The usual indeed.

* * *

Four Hours Earlier…

* * *

"_It's your birthday?" one girl cried, her hands trembling around her cup of tea. _

"_Our birthday," I corrected, taking Kaoru's hand and kissing it gently. I ran my tongue over his knuckles to watch him blush, and the girls around us began to giggle excitedly._

"_Hikaru…" he breathed, much to the delight of our guests, and I smiled. "You know the effect that has on me…" He lowered his long eyelashes as if embarrassed, but I know it was to hide his amusement. I was amused as well._

"_So I discovered last night," I said coyly. "You responded a little louder then." The girls around us couldn't contain their 'moe' anymore and began to squeal all at once, easily drowning out our soft conversation._

_We were sitting in the Host Club, as usual. It was full for what Kyouya had designated "The Hitachin Brothers' Birthday Celebration." Not that he had bothered to attend. No, wait. I could see him skulking in the background, small notebook in hand as he calculated costs, gains, and the potential amount of new customers we were going to score from this. Hunny and Mori watched with similarly amused countenances from another table. They were sipping tea, and Hunny was eating a small strawberry-filled cake while he waited. That reminded me… _

"_Ha-ru-hi," I called loudly. "Haruhi!" I wasn't sure if she'd be able to hear me over the noise our guests were making._

"_What?" She appeared at my side, looking wary._

"_Could you bring out our cake?" I requested, calmly, but I was excited to see the reaction it would bring. _

"_Hai," she answered, rolling her eyes and turning her back on me. I had learned in advance that Haruhi did not approve of our cake and had promised not to eat it. I still thought she would._

_When she returned, pushing the cake on a dainty cart, the girls not immediately at our side began a collective giggle. I kept my expression blank and relaxed. "What?" I demanded. I straightened up from where I sat and began to frown. "What is it?"_

"_What's going on?" Kaoru asked next, as if he was unaware._

_The cake came into view. On the vanilla background was a carefully drawn picture of Kaoru and I lying in each other's arms. Oh, and we were naked. But hey, there were some lovely roses covering up the essential bits. It was really a PG cake, in my opinion. The giggles were hushed as every eye in the crowd searched our impassive expressions._

"_Hikaru!" Kaoru said finally in shock, his face turning an impressive shade of white. He ducked his head in supposed embarrassment. I know he was laughing. "To take that perfect moment and put it on a cake for everyone to see…!" I stroked the back of his neck with one hand, admiring the downy orange fuzz that covers it._

"_Well," I said boldly. "I think this shows your good side, Kaoru." His head whipped up in protest, and the girls around us dissolved into laughter._

"_Kaoru-kun! Hikaru-kun!" one girl called. "What part of the cake will you eat first?"_

_I sidled my eyes to Kaoru who, without looking at me, answered, "A slice of Hikaru, please." The voices of the girls escalated into a loud frenzy of shrieking laughter, and the look on Haruhi's face was priceless. Tamaki took the opportunity to hand her a knife._

"_Haruhi," he proclaimed, dramatic as always. "Cut Kaoru-kun a piece of what he desires the most!"_

"_Hai, hai," Haruhi dutifully cut out a piece of cake depicting my chest and handed the plate to Kaoru. Before he could take it, I snatched it away. "Hikaru," he protested._

"_Shh," I touched a finger to his moist lips. "Let me feed it to you."_

_The volume in the room jumped again before quieting to a dead silence as I carefully sliced off a bite-size piece of the cake with my fork. Everyone was watching. I moved the fork delicately toward Kaoru's mouth, just as we had planned, and he waited._

"_Open," I said, sternly, and he obediently opened his mouth in a way that was perhaps wider than necessary to take in the small bit of cake. Carefully, I tilted the fork to slide off the treat. I sat back and waited as Kaoru chewed thoughtfully._

"_Is it good?" I asked, eagerly leaning closer to Kaoru… and then closer still. The guests surrounding us released not-quite-silent gasps. I know what they were wondering. We were prepared to answer them._

"_Mm," Kaoru nodded, and I took the opportunity to look into his eyes and confirm the plan. _

"_Is it delicious?" I asked._

"_Mmmm," Kaoru purred, closing his eyes in ridiculous enjoyment of this supposedly wondrous cake._

_It was a go._

"_Let me taste it," I whispered, seizing my twin around the waist. I pulled him into my lap and firmly claimed his mouth with mine. He didn't resist; rather, he pulled me closer than I thought possible and returned the kiss with as much enthusiasm as my own. _

_The kiss was physically real. It had to be, what with the party guests surrounding and observing so closely. Kaoru used his tongue to pass me a little bit of cake, and I separated from him with the icing melting on my tongue. We were both panting, slightly out of breath. I peeked at Kaoru to check that the plan had been executed to his satisfaction. His reply was to lick some cake off his kiss-swollen lips and give me a sexy, half-lidded look._

_The guests around us had been shrilling for some time, but I must admit that that kiss had been more real than I'd thought it would be. My heart pounded so loudly in my ears that I really didn't know when our audience had started to cheer. Nevertheless, I gathered myself to deliver the last line in the act._

"_That…" I said loudly, pausing for effect and quiet. "is delicious cake." Around us, the girls squealed and clamored for a piece of their own. Haruhi sliced off bits of our hair, our eyes, our noses, our cheeks, our necks, our chests, our stomachs, our pubic bones, and at last, the innocent roses, to feed to our guests._

* * *

"The usual?" Domoro asks sharply, only two seconds after I said it myself, but I'm slow to respond. Kaoru knows what I'm thinking about. He always knows. Smiling slightly, he answers, "Well… it is our birthday." 

"And how did you celebrate?" Domoro presses, obviously driving to a point.

"With some delicious cake," I respond innocently. My innocent face, unfortunately, isn't as perfect as Kaoru's.

Domoro slams his hands down on the table in frustration, causing Kaoru to flinch. I squeeze his hand more tightly beneath the table. "A student reported that you two kissed each other with the cake in your mouths!"

I raise an eyebrow. "Bit homophobic, are you?"

"Have a problem with gays?" Kaoru asks.

"That's not the issue here," Domoro bites out coldly. "You're brothers. Identical twins, no?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I reply nastily.

"What you did is an unspeakable act," he begins, and I sense we're in for a real lecture. Sighing, I sit back in my chair, lift my feet, and place them on the edge of the table, ankles crossed. "Remove your feet from my table, young man!" Domoro insists, and I only wiggle my shoes at him.

"Is there a law against incestuous relationships outside of marriage?" I demand, ignoring his request, and the man flushes.

"No, but the social taboo—"

"Damn society," I say lazily. "Damn them and damn you. Can we leave now?"

"Oh no," Domoro laughs, and I feel a flicker of uncertainty; was my reasoning wrong? "Ouran has committed you to attend sessions here until we have rewritten how you two think about each other." A cold, icy sensation drips into the pit of my stomach, making me feel sick.

"Excuse me," Kaoru says softly from beside me. In my hand, his fingers are trembling and delicate like a bird's. I stroke them against my palm, almost as much for my own comfort as for his. "Does this mean that we've been _committed_?"

"Well," Domoro says uncomfortably. "I wouldn't put it like that. You boys certainly have issues to work out in healthier ways than you have been, but you're certainly not stark raving mad—"

"Will we have to stay here?" Kaoru interrupts, and this scares me more than anything. Outside of the situations we create and the acts we play through, Kaoru _never_ interrupts. I swing my feet down from the table and tuck them under the desk. Both our hands tremble. The only thing keeping them steady is the death-grip they have on each other.

"For a while, yes." Domoro answers. "We'll also have to separate you two—"

"What?!" we squawk, rising quickly from our chairs to lean on the table.

"To evaluate each of you separately," he explains, standing up himself to compensate. "Surely you understand that—"

"Absolutely not," we say in unison. Domoro's eyes drift downward from our distraught faces to our hands, which are still interlinked.

"I see," he says quietly. The grip we have on each other tightens. I can't feel my hand. "I didn't think we'd have to go about this the hard way. I thought that, perhaps, if you both made it easier on each other, let each other go in a mutual fashion—"

"Fuck you," we spit out, and the sagging lines around Domoro's mouth tighten.

"Very well." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a walkie-talkie. Is this where he calls the orderlies to take us away? Feeling light-headed, I pull Kaoru closer to me until the opposite corners of our hips touch.

"This can't be happening." It's said so quietly that I can't hear him. I still know what he says.

"It isn't," I say firmly. "It won't."

"But Hikaru—"

"Listen," I tell him fiercely, taking his chin in my hand to emphasize. "It will be an act."

His eyes, originally rigid with fear, soften in understanding. "An act."

"Our greatest one," I continue. "It has to convince them better than anything we've ever done."

"I won't like it," he says quietly, looking up at me. "I won't like it at all."

"Me neither," I admit, darting a glance at Domoro. He's still talking into the device and is apparently having some trouble getting in contact with anyone.

"Hikaru?"

I look down into the beautiful face of my twin. Is this the last time I will ever see him? I wrap my arms around him and tighten them. "Yes?" My voice cracks brokenly.

"About that kiss—" He looks down shyly, and I'm surprised. There's no reason for him to play the game. No one is looking. "About that kiss…" I wait for him to explain, to go further, because for once I don't know where he's going with this. "That kiss was—"

At that moment, the door bursts open, and men in military uniforms dart inside, pointing their guns in every possible direction. I step in front of Kaoru protectively, but there's no need. After ten men surround us and a speechless Domoro, Kyouya enters the room, glancing around curiously. "Hikaru, Kaoru," he greets, as though we happened to stumble into each other at a party.

"Kao-kun! Hika-kun!" Hunny launches himself through the doorway and clings to our pant legs. "Are you hurt? Did we make it in time?" Mori stands in the background, assessing the situation.

"Remove him," he tells the guards, indicating Domoro. The man is immediately dragged out, and Tamaki trips over him in his eagerness to get through the doorway.

"Oh, Daddy was so worried, wasn't he, Haruhi?" he gushes loudly, hugging both Kaoru and I tightly than we'd like.

"Are you two all right?" Haruhi asks before Tamaki can go on in the speech he had planned out. Her concerned gaze tugs at my heart a little, but I answer her truthfully.

"We're fine," I sigh. "Cut it close, didn't you?" I tap her on the nose, making her sputter. "Try and hurry a bit next time, would you?"

"Thank you for saving us," Kaoru adds, still half-wrapped around me.

"Come on!" Hunny tugs at Kaoru's hand. "Kyouya's helicopter is waiting for us!"

The soldiers leave first, with the rest of us following: first Kyouya, writing notes in his book about the cost of the rescue, no doubt, then Hunny and Mori, then Tamaki and Haruhi, and finally us.

"How did this happen anyway?" Haruhi muses. Kaoru stiffens slightly beside me, and I lay a hand on his waist to make him relax.

"Apparently a student reported them," Kyouya answers for us. "I'm not sure who it was yet, but when I find out." That was the end of his sentence.

"Is it really legally possible to place someone in an insane asylum for incest?" Haruhi persists, and Kaoru and I sigh.

"Cut, cut," Kyouya says, sounding bored, and a faint beep sounds from the walls we pass. Haruhi freezes, making Tamaki bump into her from behind, and reaches out a hand to touch the wall. It sways from her slight push.

"Is that… plastic?" she asks in disbelief. She finds a seam in the "wall" and flings it aside. Behind the material sit a few cameramen, sound technicians, editors, and three large top-of-the-line video cameras. Haruhi examines the plastic. "What the—"

"It's one-way plastic," explains Hunny brightly. "The camera can see through, but you can't see the camera." Mori grunts in confirmation.

"Haruhi, there was supposed to be a helicopter scene next," Kaoru and I complain in unison.

"But… then this wasn't real?!" Haruhi demands.

"It's a real promotional movie," Kyouya replies. "Titled—"

"'Hitachin Brothers: The Great Escape'," Tamaki interrupts grandly. "Our customers will love it! Can you imagine the delight on their faces when they see this story of mishap, of loss, and of the ultimate triumph of love? It will win award after award, the critics will announce it as the best picture of the year!"

Kyouya frowns and makes one more mark in his book. "I suppose now we'll have to film the part with the helicopter later."

"But—but—"

"It's all right, Haruhi," I say patronizingly, placing a hand on her head. "We're being compensated, neh, Kyouya?"

"_Over_compensated," he mutters.

"But I was really worried!" Haruhi protests. "Do you mean this was all part of the plan?" The Host Club members join in to calm her as we all mount the stairs to the helicopter pad. No one pays further attention to Kaoru and me.

I slide my eyes over to look at my twin, who is watching our friends and smiling fondly. He feels the weight of my stare and shifts his eyes to me.

" 'That kiss was…'?" I ask. "That wasn't in the plan. What were you going to say?"

The smile on his face widens before he starts to laugh. "Wouldn't you like to know, Hikaru?" he teases, breaking from my hold to run ahead to the others before I can stop him.

"Kaoru!" I protest, but I don't immediately follow. He's right, as always. I would like to know the answer to that question: were we playing through the scene, or was it real? I think of our kiss from only a few hours before. Had Kaoru also experienced the head-rush, the giddy excitement, the fever that I had perceived? The heat of the memory hits me as I recall the soft texture of my twin's lips and how they fit so perfectly against my own.

"Hika-kun!" Hunny launches himself from the ground onto my shoulders and jerks me out of my daydreaming. I stagger at the unexpected weight. "Were you_blushing_?"


	2. Undeniably Real

**A/N:** Okay, okay, somehow I decided to continue this. I don't know how it happened. I don't know why it happened. But I had an idea.

**Summary:** Hikaru can't stop thinking about the staged kiss that he and Kaoru shared at their Ouran birthday celebration. The twins escape to talk about it and end up finding a new game to play...

* * *

**Undeniably Real**

* * *

"Catch, Kaoru!"

"Catch, Hikaru!"

The afternoon sunlight dyes patterns on the floor as Kaoru and I toss Hunny's bunny back and forth. Tamaki is sitting at the piano that has forever rested in the corner of the music room, occasionally tinkering with a few notes, but mostly pouting over his teacup at Haruhi. Although she is usually content to ignore his dramatic tendencies, Haruhi returns his look today-- with a glare. It's the usual fight for them, where Tamaki paid for something that Haruhi made him promise he wouldn't. This time, it's a bus pass for the month.

Kyouya huddles in an opposite corner with his laptop, the sun's glare on his glasses obstructing whatever he thinks about the ruckus we create. Normally, we would have already been chastised. This afternoon, however, no customers sit on the sofas to sip daintily at tea. No yellow dresses whisper around the corner of the door as Ouran females peer inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite host. Today happens to be the final day of mid-semester break, and nearly all of the students are still at some fantastic vacation spot.

When Mori had mentioned this fact to Kyouya a week before, the shadow king merely pushed his glasses further up his nose with one finger and shrugged. "We'll be here. I won't allow this club to gain a reputation for unreliability." So much for the Hitachiin family vacation to Aruba.

The expression Mori wore after Kyouya's answer is the same one he wears now-- it's completely placid. Like he cares. As long as Hunny is around, he's content to observe. He sits at a table for two by himself, its other occupant having vacated the chair.

"Kaoru-kun, Hika-kun, stop it!" that occupant cries now, darting toward me.

I snicker, tossing the bunny from one hand to the other above his head while he hops up and down. It's impossible for him to reach. Ten feet away, Kaoru's smile matches my own, and he holds out his hands, little fits of laughter overcoming him as he waits for me to pass it.

"Now, now, Hunny-kun! You haven't said the magic word," I taunt.

"Please." he says, with complete sincerity, and I can sense the line we're about to cross; it's the one that separates Hunny-kun from Mitsukini. I don't blame him- we've been doing this for at least half an hour. The question is, has that been long enough to satisfy my boredom?

"Hmm..." I juggle the rabbit up and down a few times for good measure, considering the options and possible consequences that will result. I cock an eye toward Kaoru, who tilts his shoulder, acknowledging the choice and willing to follow whatever I have in mind. I hesitate, tempted, then lob the bunny gently to Hunny.

The blond-haired senior is so surprised that he almost fumbles it.

"What?" I say in surprise. I shove my hands in the pockets of my uniform pants. The looks I'm receiving from Hunny and Mori are enough to make me stalk to an empty table, spin around the chair, and plop down in irritation. I don't know why I'm annoyed, or who I'm annoyed at, but the feeling courses through me. It only increases when Kyouya pauses in his typing and Tamaki switches his pout at Haruhi to a blank stare at me.

"You _never_ give me back my bunny," Hunny blurts out.

"Today, you got lucky," I inform him. He looks skeptical. So does everyone else.

Kaoru pulls the partnered chair away from the table and sits next to me. He taps his chin, thinking, and I can't help wondering what about. Is it me? Is it what I did now? Is it about when we--? A thrill tickles the bottom of my spine. My head feels muddled. Somehow, I feel... annoyed. Frustrated. Excited. Confused. Worried. Why don't I know what my twin is thinking?

I don't realize that I'm staring until Kaoru taps my nose, making me smile despite myself. He traces the shape of my nose with his finger until he reaches its end, then does the same to his, explaining without speaking that they are the same. _We_ are the same. He takes my hand and tickles the palm to make me twitch before tracing the life lines. When he finishes, I gently turn his hand over and do the same.

It's simply a part of the old games we play.

_Look at us. Look at how alike we are_.

"Hikaru and I," Kaoru announces suddenly, making me flinch. "are going out to a late lunch. Is that acceptable, Kyouya?" For a split second, I look at him with naked surprise; then it is smoothed away and I meet the other hosts' inquiring looks with confidence. Kaoru's innocence, as usual, is pristine. Somehow, the delicious shape of his mouth and the brightness of his eyes fit together in perfection when he lies. Kyouya suspects, isn't quite fooled, but he accepts when he's been had.

"Yes." He closes his laptop. "In fact, I believe it's time we all leave. Clearly, we have no one to entertain today but ourselves," he adds wryly.

The surprised hosts fetch whatever they've scattered about and, one by one, file out the door. Kaoru and I linger behind, on the pretense of me looking for a mysteriously vanished folder. At last, even Kyouya leaves, laptop bag in hand, and the music room is deserted except for the two of us.

And then, for no reason at all, I become incredibly conscious of that fact. Kaoru's breathing is light and familiar behind me. Under his breath, he's humming a tune I recognize as the last full melody that Tamaki played on the piano. I stir things around inside my bag., something I don't understand persuading me to prolong this moment.

"Find that folder?" His question is innocent, maybe to anyone else but me. I narrow my eyes at him. We both know that I haven't lost a folder, and that he knows that I know he knows I haven't lost a folder.

"Lunch?" I ask finally, unable to restrain my curiosity anymore. "It's almost four."

He shrugs, his thin shoulders moving under the uniform jacket. "A late lunch."

"What's the occasion?" I ask.

"Does there need to be?" He pouts at me. "Can't I take my twin out to lunch when I feel like it?"

"Not without there being an ulterior motive," I mutter darkly.

He chuckles. We have successfully switched into the pattern of behavior we default to when no one is looking. Our exaggerated personalities, which look so distinct in public, mellow back into what they actually are. In truth, it's less a case of dominant and sub and more a matter of give and take.

He tugs me to my feet from the chair, drawing me up to clasp both my hands in his own. "You wouldn't stand me up. You're a better date than that."

I withdraw my hands abruptly and pick up my bag. I can feel my face heating up, ears burning like they do when I eat anything spicier than mild.

"Where do you want to go?" Kaoru is looking out the window, squinting his eyes against the sun. Since I pulled back my hands so quickly, I expected him to be looking, but he isn't. "I was thinking somewhere American-style. Maybe Italian."

"You hate Italian."

"You like it." He turns just his head to give me a smile. Kaoru's smiles come in different flavors depending on who's present and what he means. Sometimes they're sarcastic, sometimes they're pseudo-sweet, and sometimes they're made just for me. Like many of his other smiles, his eyes soften at the corners and make intimate contact with his target's eyes. Like many of his smiles, the left corner of his mouth tilts up before the right, showing just a hint of teeth. Actually, I can't explain what makes it mine, but I know when I see it that he means it for me.

Of all his smiles, it's my favorite.

* * *

The restaurant we're in isn't a simple pizzeria, nor is it fancy. A waitress dressed in jeans and an apron comes to take our orders. I get the chicken parmesan with spaghetti. Kaoru asks for the same without the spaghetti.

I've always been jealous of the way he collects restaurants like some people collect stamps. His taste isn't for necessarily high-class dishes or even quality ones. Once, when I asked, he told me that it has more to do with the people and the atmosphere rather than the food. Today, no one occupies the tables around us, and the only people present that I can see are the cook and the waitress. I wonder if he knew it would be that way, even wanted it to be that way.

"What?" he asks now, tilting his head.

I've been staring again.

"You've been staring," he comments. Rather than ask what I'm thinking about, he places his elbows on the table and rests his chin on his folded fingers. "You've been staring ever since our birthday."

I flush despite myself, down to the neck, and he laughs.

"I've been thinking." The words escape me.

"Usually not as seriously as this." He's right. "And it's about me, isn't it?"

I hate when he's right. "You know it is," I snap. My sudden defensiveness makes him laugh.

"You might not know it, but you want to talk about it," he explains to me. The smile on his face is ironic. "That's why we're out here on a _date_."

"_You_ called it a date," I retort. "I never--" I leave the sentence unfinished. I can't decide which way to end it first. Our meals arrive, and Kaoru thanks the waitress. Neither of us pick up our forks. The waitress disappears into the kitchens.

"Why not call it a date?" he asks me, very softly. His eyes bore into mine, as confrontational as I can stand. Normally, I look like the forward one, but he seems to have decided nothing will get done unless he does it himself. He could be right.

"Because..." I trail off lamely. What do I say? I pick up my fork, swirl it in the spaghetti and awkwardly take a bite. Damn Westerners. Clearly, this method of eating is inefficient. I hate how it looks, but it _is_ delicious.

"About that kiss..." Kaoru presses me.

"What about anything else?" I ask in exasperation.

"You don't _want_ to talk about anything else," he points out. "You don't want to talk about it, and you don't want to talk about anything else, so we might as well talk about it. That kiss," Kaoru says abruptly, "was the only real thing we did on our birthday."

I freeze, another forkful of pasta halfway to my mouth. I set it down. "The cake was real," I say sullenly.

"It was the only real thing," he continues, ignoring me. "And I wanted more."

"More cake?"

"More real," he snaps, and I feel instantly guilty.

"Sorry." I know how to push his buttons, and I know when there's a time and place for it, but that isn't now."You wanted... more?"

"Yes," he answers, no longer angry, and I know I've been forgiven. "Our birthday's kind of like our anniversary, at least in my mind." The honesty in his voice softens me. "That's why, later, when we were doing the movie, I wanted to let you know. Even though you know." He gives me my favorite smile. "You do know that kiss was real."

I shrug. It's acknowledgement without me speaking. I can't speak when he's smiling like that. He reaches across the table for my hand and takes it in both of his own. I clasp them back. We've already said everything that needs to be said in that, and he hasn't touched his plate once.

"There is something I don't know though," I manage, not looking at him.

"What?"

"I don't know what to do about it," I confess. His thumbs knead my palm in a slow motion, relaxing me, which means he's relaxed too. My eyes rise to his with the encouragement, and I see that I'm right.

"Me neither," he admits, not the answer I was expecting. "It's okay though. I think we should just do what we've always done." I don't know what that means in this case. "Give everyone a show," he clarifies, "like we've always done."

"But it doesn't have to be a show if we don't want it to?" I guess. "It can be... real?" He nods.

"Okay." I half-smile, still a little hesitant, but his palms and answer have done their job. A weight has been taken off my mind and I feel clearer than I've felt since our birthday. "Now, should I be insulted that you haven't touched your meal on our date, or should I be flattered that you've been too lost in my eyes to care about food?" I flutter them obnoxiously, and he gives a small giggle, drawing away his hands to pick up his fork and knife. He uses them to cut off a piece of the chicken parm, stabs it, and holds it up to scrutinize.

"You don't want it," I say.

"Nope," he agrees.

"I'll take it," I offer, "and then we can go get some sushi."

He perks visibly. "All right."He looks at the fork, looks at me, and some of his delight turns to wickedness. The piece of chicken moves in the direction of my mouth. "Open up." The words are nearly purred. I'm helpless to do anything but open it.

With a deft little movement, he slides the fork against my tongue so that I can take the chicken and then withdraws it. I chew the meat thoughtfully-- it's tasty-- and a delicious shiver starts from the base of my spine. "Oh boy," I say softly. No one is looking. No is watching us, and yet look what we're doing.

"What have we done?" Kaoru echoes the thought, but he's grinning.

I'm halfway through my chicken parm when Kaoru starts a bit, then reaches into his pocket to peer at his phone. He isn't quick enough. After the initial buzz, the customized ringtone starts to play: "_That girl was a one-time teenage drama queen! A hot, tough everyday wannabe--_"

Kaoru picks up. "Hello, my lord," he says cheerfully, then pauses to listen. I tilt my head to hear better, but it's not exactly necessary.

"Kaoru! Kyouya has had a fantastic, marvelous, splendid idea, and you simply must come! In fact, there can be no answer other than acceptance to dinner--"

"What dinner, milord?" Kaoru interrupts, bemused.

"Tonight," Tamaki announces, "we will be having a Welcome Back From Mid-Semester-Break Sushi Event! And it will be the most spectacular dinner we have ever had!" Even over the phone, he manages to be dramatic. "You, of all people,--" I picture him stabbing his finger at the phone "-- are expected to be there. Why, there is no other reason we would go! No reason we would rather go! And of course, when I told you that the dinner would be-- er, when we spoke of the event, the customers were so excited! They--" His end crackles, and he gives an indignant shriek that becomes progressively quieter. "Kaoru?" a voice asks. It's Kyouya. "Where are you?"

"Uh," my twin answers. "What's going on?" The waitress appears, hands me the bill, and walks off.

"Tonight is the Welcome Back dinner," Kyouya says flatly, "that was your idea."

"I know it was my idea, but no one told me we were actually doing it," Kaoru protests. I finish my chicken parm and start on the spaghetti."When did we decide that?"

"Last week. Tamaki was supposed to tell you. Never mind." Kyouya sounds resigned. "We'll see you there in half an hour." He hangs up without another word.

"Oops," Kaoru says, looking at my plate regretfully. He slips his phone back in his pocket. The spaghetti is nearly gone, the entire chicken parm has vanished, and I'm feeling full, predictably enough. His stomach rumbles.

"Time for sushi," I declare.

* * *

"And there I thanked him for my scrumptious Italian meal, while, in secret, he was looking forward to this delicious sushi that I have no room to eat!" I look regretfully at the feast and heave a sigh that makes the girls surrounding me squeal in laughter.

"Don't be upset with Kaoru, Hikaru!"

"Tamaki-kun forgot to tell!"

"Hikaru, you can eat sushi another time."

"Kaoru-kun, maybe you should save some for Hikaru for later," suggests one girl. She blushes as all the attention at the table focuses on her, then back to my twin and I.

We're sitting at a table in the sushi bar with five customers. Around us are similarly-styled tables where each host dines with an assortment of guests. Behind us, Haruhi and Tamaki sit at their respective tables, still glaring and pouting back and forth, much to the amusement of their tablemates. Beyond small partitions sit Kyouya, Mori, and Hunny with their guests. The bar is small, and Kyouya has limited attendance to this particular event, and it feels quite intimate. That was what he intended, naturally. The price for this dinner made even me raise my eyebrows, and it doesn't even include the sushi.

Nevertheless, the restaurant is packed. It makes me feel as though things are back to normal. The audience leans in when I tilt my head to Kaoru, actors on a stage. He dangles chopsticks in his right hand, clasping sushi-- the props.

"Well," Kaoru says slowly, enjoying the moment. "We can always come at another time." He pops the suishi in his mouth, chews it.

"Or," I reply, "we can have the sushi later--" my voice lowers "-- and then you for dessert."

The girls squee around us in ear-splitting tones, laughing, as a look of shock forms on his face. "Hikaru!" he cries, embarrassed. The corner of his mouth twitches up, a sign for me. Beneath the table, his foot finds mine and twines his leg around it, ankle to ankle, rubbing in a way that is less than innocent.

I blink, almost dropping my mouth open uncharacteristically. The smile remains on my face, however, then grows. I get it. It's become a new game. My face returns to its innocent deadpan.

"Actually," I say, which instantly quiets the table. "I think I'd like to have a taste now. Mind passing me a piece, Kaoru?"

"But it's bad luck to share chopsticks," he protests. The girls begin to titter; they can see where this is going.

"Then I guess you'll have to pass it to me another way," I suggest.

"Hikaru!" He blushes, dropping his chopsticks. "Another way..."

"Do it, Kaoru-kun!"

"There aren't any extra chopsticks, Kaoru-kun!"

"You wouldn't want to deprive Hikaru-kun of a _taste!_"

Their laughter swells and fades when Kaoru picks up his chopsticks again. Carefully, he selects a prime piece, each guest watching with bated breath, and places it in his mouth.

Then he turns to me.

The performance goes on. Our shared joke continues. The new game... begins.

**A/N:** Should there be more? R/R, let me know. : )


	3. My Second Favorite Smile

**OOC:** More, you say? More I give! Next chapter will contain some semblance of an actual plot, I promise. Don't think of these first three chapters as complete fluff... think of them as the honeymoon stage. XD Thanks so much to all the reviewers of the past two chapters.

**My Second Favorite Smile**

"Ready or not, here I come!"

On the front lawn of Ouran High School, a blond-haired, tall youth drops his hands from his eyes and looks around. Predictably, the enormous space around him is deserted. "Here I come!" Tamaki shouts again, and his voice carries even up to the window that I glance out as Kaoru and I dash by.

"He didn't count to thirty!" I gasp.

"He couldn't have counted to thirty!" Kaoru pants.

Breathless with running and laughter, we take a left around a corner, slipping in our dress shoes on the well-waxed floor. Behind us, we hear the high-pitched giggling of female customers. Somewhere further back is Tamaki's booming voice as he discovers club guests and other hosts. It's late afternoon, and the school is deserted except for the host club and its members. In celebration of the warm spring weather, Tamaki declared a game of tag-- that's why we made him be it first. Clearly, his sketchy counting is revenge...

"Where--?" I shove the word from my mouth. There's no air in my lungs.

"In here!" Kaoru gasps. "Janitor's closet!"

Still laughing, we rip open the door to the closet.

"Did you have to pick the smallest--"

"No time to find another--"

We both dive inside, facing each other and grinning ear to ear. There wouldn't be room for either of us if we extended our arms, so we keep them close to our chests. Thank goodness the school authorities have abandoned this closet and it's no longer stuffed with cleaning supplies. (They ditched it because the new vacuum was too big to fit.) Before the door shuts, I see Kaoru reach up a hand for the light switch.

"Don't!" I hiss, catching his hand. The door shuts and we're caught in darkness, the only sound our harsh breathing.

Kaoru sinks to the floor, half-sitting on my feet. I tilt my head, still standing, listening as Tamaki's growing swarm of finders comes closer, then passes the narrow, insignificant door that is our hiding place. No one knows that we like to hide in it, except for Kyouya of course. I don't know if he realizes how cliché the in-the-closet scenario is, or perceives the pun, but he does understand very well how much an Ouran female will pay to get her hands on a copy of the annual calendar.

I slide down the wall to the floor, too, taking the other side of the closet. It's so small that, for there to be room, we have to put our legs to the side of each other's shoulders- our bodies have become a puzzle.

I'm still listening to the hunt going on outside when I feel Kaoru bump my shoe. I barely take note, until that bump becomes a touch that slides across the untied laces and up along the outside of my dress pants.

"What--" My mind wasn't there at all.

"Come here," he demands in a husky voice, and I inhale more sharply than I mean to thanks to an involuntary shiver. I slide forward across the closet, crouched over, and it feels like we're a jumble of legs. I start to try to contort mine behind and under me to make more room, but it's no use. He could move more easily, if he's sitting how I think he's sitting.

I test this theory by running my hands over the front of his dress shirt, noting and remembering the loss of our jackets during the chase. They'll be red herrings for the group of finders. In fact, I expect there to be a good twenty minutes before they remember about this closet. The way it's inlaid to the wall, outside matching the wallpaper with a tiny, unobtrusive knob, makes it one of our favorite hiding spaces.

Of course, we've never done anything like _this_ in here before. My wandering hands are making exploratory circles, causing a whispering of fabric, and when I stop abruptly, the only sound in the closet is Kaoru's hitched breathing. I smirk-- I like the fact that I can do that him.

My hands seize his tie, sliding up to the knot of it, and yank him toward me. The movement, intentionally on my part and helplessly on his, lands him exactly where I'd like him to be with a pleased gasp-- sprawled across my chest, his weight pressing me into the floor. "Oh!" he whispers in surprise. Even though I'm expecting it, the rush of euphoria that flushes from somewhere deep in my stomach catches me off-guard, and a quiet moan escapes me.

I can feel Kaoru's sides shaking with laughter at the sound, and for a few seconds, we're motionless, listening. From what we can hear, no one's outside right now. I'm betting that they've almost come upon the jackets. That'll give us a little over fifteen minutes--

_Oh. _Something hot and wet moves against my throat, and I know it can be nothing other than my twin's mouth as he pins me to the floor. My mind, filled with the sensation, can barely focus on keeping the necessary quiet. I don't know my name, or what species I am, or what I ate for breakfast-- all I know is that Kaoru is attacking my neck.

Because there really can be no other way to describe what he's doing. I didn't even know he knew how to do this, but he licks my neck, making little circles with his tongue, alternately taking small bites with his teeth. It's the teeth that I can't be still through entirely. I groan beneath my breath, wriggling a little beneath him. The movement drives him on, if anything, until after what seems like too short a time, he pulls back, overwhelmed.

Now we're both panting in the closet, laughing silently in reaction to it, then groaning when the movement brings further urges.

Kaoru becomes motionless and listens. His hands are stroking the side of my neck, a blissful feeling. I listen too, catch the fading end of a shout.

"The jackets--"

"Five minutes, maybe ten--"

"Plenty of time," Kaoru murmurs, against my throat again, driving me insane. I lift my hands to run them through his hair, or caress his face-- I don't even know what I'm doing apart from autopilot-- but he catches them by the wrists.

I protest with the faintest of noises, and he chuckles, hoarse and low. "In a few minutes," he whispers to me, "we'll have to be in completely opposite positions, my shirt open, and _you_ on top of _me_, so right now... if you don't mind--" the words tickle the hollow beneath my chin "-- I would like to be ravaging _you_."

My breath catches when he slams my caught wrists down against the rough carpet of the closet. I've never been on this side of the balance before, never felt this vulnerable to someone else, and especially not to Kaoru. I thought I'd liked the scales to tip one way and the other, neither of us completely in control, but I think I've changed my mind. I _like_ this.

It's something new to get used to. I keep attempting to lift my hands in order to touch his hair, or lift my mouth to find some skin of his that needs attention, but he has them pinned on either side of my head despite my struggles. The grip he has on them is incredible-- I can feel the bruises rising even now, and I want them.

His tongue leaves my neck and trails slowly-- too slowly-- up to my mouth.

We both hesitate.

He and I are jointly aware that there's no one here watching. This isn't an act or a practice for an act or something Kyouya dreamed up to make money. It's _real _and slightly terrifying.

I can't see his eyes in the closet, but I know he's thinking the same thing. I hope he'll make the choice that I have.

A moment later, I'm rewarded with the soft touch of his lips against my own. It's odd because they're familiar. I've touched them many times with my own, to exchange birthday cake or sushi or any other food item you can dream of, and I've touched them with my fingers to silence and to encourage, but this is nothing like any of those.

His lips caress mine, and in contrast to our previous heated fumblings, this step is something we want to explore, take our time with. I strain my neck, unable to lift myself up with my captured wrists, in order to reach his upper lip and nibble on it alone. A vibration passes into my mouth, and I realize it's his silenced moan. A thought passes through me like a flash that wonders what noises he would be making if he allowed himself, and exactly how loud would they be?

My neck, unused to such strain, at last collapses, and I crack my skull against the floor, taking him with me. He pulls back, his fingers releasing my wrists at last out of concern, and holds the sides of my face. "Hey," he whispers anxiously. "Are you okay--"

I lunge up toward him, taking him by surprise, and twine my arms around his neck to draw him closer to me, if that's even possible. I don't think I could stand a second more without having his mouth to mine again. Though I enjoyed being teased, there's a dominant side of me that's hard to repress and even harder to ignore.

He likes it, too, and I know that for a fact. It's in details that, alone, are small and almost insignificant, like the way his neck yields when I apply the pressure into it, the way his lips smile when I clash our teeth into each other with my eagerness, and the way he lets me take possession of his mouth like a kid with an ice cream cone. And it's just as delicious as that. My thoughts are less human and more instinct, more feeling. I break away for a millisecond to gasp for breath, then dive in again. He is simply and utterly delicious, and he is _mine_--

"--but we haven't seen them yet." Kaoru and I throw ourselves apart guiltily as soon as we hear the voice, both of us gasping for breath. Heat rises from my face, and I'm certain that I have a telltale flush.

"Are you certain you've looked everywhere?" There's Kyouya, giving helpful indications. I can picture him motioning to the photographer so that the man will get the best shots of us for the calendar. I pull Kaoru closer to me again to fiddle with his shirt buttons, undoing them as quickly as I can from the top and ripping whatever ones frustrate me beyond my tolerance. He begins from the bottom and meets me halfway.

"They're just good hiders," a girl's voice complains. "We never find them until last."

We giggle silently, maybe a little giddily, and I throw Kaoru's shirt open, muss up his hair a little. He leans close, his mouth a millimeter from my ear. "Your hair's already done," he breathes, and I can hear the grin in it. He begins to undo a few of my top buttons. A thrill shoots through me. Is this part of the act? Is this him really doing it?

"Have you checked all the washrooms? The classrooms? The closets?" His tone is dry, the word 'closets' pronounced perfectly without any italicized connotation to it, but the girls pounce on it immediately, like he intended.

"The closets?"

"Well, we checked all the ones on the first floor--"

"Ayame got the ones on the third--"

There's silence outside. I imagine them staring at the door to the closet-- our closet-- and tilt Kaoru so that we slide into the agreed-upon stance. I do a mental checklist: his shirt is open, our hair is mussed, and our lips are kiss-swollen (with no extra labor for that on our part, I might say). My weight anchors him to the floor as I lower myself down to kiss him for a final time.

The closet door swings open wide, and the bright light makes us both squint and immediately break apart. Fangirls squeal, their volume reaching a pitch I've never heard before.

"Kaoru, Hikaru!" one particularly loud customer cries. "We saw--"

"No!" we both yelp in unison, and when I glance at Kaoru to see him for the first time since we hid, we are back to the old game.

"Kaoru simply became overheated in the closet--"

"Hikaru wanted a piece of my gum--"

The rest of our explanations are lost in the deafening cries from the sea of yellow dresses. Throughout the noise, Kyouya directs the photographer as to what angles he'd like for the pictures, and could the photographer possibly get a shot of us without the fangirls? We pose dutifully, with all the old eagerness. Lost in the chatter is the fact that Kaoru's hand creeps into mine. I glance at him, my lips already curving into a smile, and notice his own is an interesting one today. It's sweet, a little sour at being interrupted, and most importantly... hungry.

He notices that I understand, and I wonder what gave me away. Did my eyes widen slightly? Did I grip his hand that much tighter?

The smile vanishes, replaced with a smirk that gives me a pleasant shudder.

Is it truly a new game? I wonder. Or merely another level?

**OOC:** Not sure if you knew, but reviews are actually a form of written love. So, uh, spread the love, guys. : )


	4. A Banquet is not a Boquet, Tamaki

**A/N:** Three tests this week, and here I am writing Ouran fanfic. You know what that means? Everything's exactly as it should be. XD But uh-oh, there's drama on the horizon...

---

**A Banquet is not a Bouquet, Tamaki**

**---  
**

Now that spring has fully sprung, as they say, we host club members prefer to move our picnics outside in order to appreciate the blossoming trees and the newly green grass. Actually, we prefer to hire other people to move everything for us so that we can perch with grace in the chairs and bask in the almost-toasty sun. In a week, the host club will hold the annual banquet in order to celebrate the official change of seasons, complete with blossom viewing, commoner tea sampling, and, of course, spectacular costume from all the hosts. The celebration was aptly named the Flower Banquet for this year by Tamaki, and we still haven't finished tormenting him about the unintentional pun.

Today is merely a part of the opening ceremonies, with regular tea and furniture set out to appreciate the day. After the constant chill of winter, it feels warmer than it is, and I can't help but blink lazily in the sunlight.

"Hika-kun! Don't fall asleep," a customer teases. "I'll feel insulted."

To my right, Kaoru's lips curve up as I straighten. "Oh, no." I smile at her, watching a blush color her cheeks and neck, then lean forward to gently cup the side of her face. The two female students flanking her gasp in envy. "If I appear relaxed, it's only because, when I'm around you, my soul is at peace." My delivery of the line is flawless.

The girl giggles in response, and I drop my hand to regain my cup of tea.

"Hikaru," Kaoru pleads in a hurt tone. He fiddles with the spoon we used for sugar on his plate, eyes downcast. I turn to him as if shocked. My teacup is set down with a clatter.

"Kaoru! What is it?" I lean toward him anxiously, my eyes searching all I can see of his face. I feel our audience lean in too, holding their breath. Kaoru half-turns his head, effectively blocking their view of his expression and only partly blocking it from mine.

"I thought..." he whispers. The hidden corner of his mouth is struggling not to smile, but the one in sight is pouting. He's adorable. His index finger finds its way to his lips and rests, parallel, against them. It's one of my favorite of his habits. "I thought I was the only one who made you feel that way..." I know the entire scene is a facade, and I know that neither he nor the fan girls really believe that he's hurt by my comment. Even so, a lump springs into my throat at the very thought that I would find someone else.

"Kaoru," I say, brokenly, and the acting is perfect because I believe it with all my heart. "Kaoru, I would never want anyone else but you. You are the only one..." He peeks up at me from beneath his eyelashes, and I read them to myself. _Be careful, _he is saying, _we're playing a game here, and it isn't that one right now_--

I clear my throat, and the Ouran female in the middle sniffs herself, overtaken by our moment. "You are the only one who gives me peace," I say, a little hoarsely, and lift his free hand to place it against my cheek. My eyes are fixed on his own, and our apparent adoration for each other causes our audience to squeal.

But, somehow, at the everyday touch we've done a million times, so many that I could probably know the feeling of his hand against my cheek in the dark, something's changed. My ears heat up at the touch of our skin, and I almost feel dizzy. Compared to my internal temperature right now, Kaoru's skin feels cool. His fingers give the slightest twitch.

I pull back to break our locked gazes, a little less gracefully than useful, but our three customers coo, regardless, and use their handkerchiefs to dab away emotion.

"More tea?" I manage, trying to snap out of the mode I've been put in. With slitted eyes, we glance at each other, tossing emotions back and forth.

_How close can we get--  
_

_– as close as we want._

I flutter my eyelashes. He hates when I do that, which I find hilarious. Out of all the fake acts we go through, from manufactured tears to kimono dress, he loathes it when my eyes play coy. The only thing he might hate more is the _fact_ that I find it hilarious. His eyes narrow in response, and his eyebrows inform me.

_You'll pay later._

I raise my own, waggle them a bit, which makes him less annoyed and more interested in what 'later' will be composed of. Actually, it's about the worst thing that could be on my mind right now. I take a deep breath, pick up my teacup again and sip the liquid. It's turned cold. Right now would be an awful time to daydream about repeating our closet moment, or even hours ago when he woke me for school, before we were interrupted by the maids--

"Ah, Kaoru-kun."

We both look up, his name being an indication that either of us might be the target.

An Ouran student, much like any other customer we've ever entertained, smiles down at us. I barely notice much about her. She has brown hair, I think, and brown eyes? It's insignificant coloring in the sea of females that we swim through daily.

"Yes?" I ask, playing one of our favorite games. I slouch a little, open my eyes wider. Kaoru sits up straighter, adds a smirk to his inquiring expression. Today, with our hair parted in the opposite ways of our preference, the technique is especially effective. I tilt my head when she simply stares. What's her problem, anyway? I pick up a spoon and fiddle with it, one of Kaoru's more easily imitated habits.

"You're Hikaru," she points out, politely as can be. Her smile never wavers. "I was speaking to Kaoru."

I freeze, caught in the act of balancing the spoon over the edge of the plate, and the girls sitting with us at the table make awed noises. A rush of panic sweeps through my system; only Haruhi has ever been able to tell us apart, and I still think that somehow she was cheating!

"Kimichi-chan, how did you know?" one asks.

The name is unfamiliar to me, as was her appearance, but now my eyes narrow as I take good note. She has shoulder-length brown hair, sickeningly straight, on a frame that is admittedly not hideous. Her cheekbones are pronounced, her lips thin, and her eyes rather set apart. I grudgingly observe that they're hazel, not brown. Her pale features are a bit mismatched, yet the overall impression isn't disgraceful to her family, which is prestigious, if I can infer anything about the typical high schooler at Ouran. No, whatever's bothering me has something to do with her expression, which puzzles me. I don't know what I'm picking up on- she's smiling, for god's sake.

Her smile only breaks when she responds to the question, and even then the discontinuation is only temporary. "Kaoru-kun is my favorite," she replies. While she answers, she doesn't look at the other customer, only at my twin. "If you have a favorite, you know everything about him. You know his quirks, his likes, his dislikes..." She gazes without another word at Kaoru, who doesn't miss a beat. I admire him for that.

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure of being introduced," he says politely, rising to take her offered hand. "Miss... Kimichi-sama?" He bows over it. I scrutinize the act. The bow is not as low as some that he's performed, but it is higher than a few I've seen. I feel a frown ghost over my face before I smooth it away. Does he know something about her that I don't?

Her smile widens at his response, and the smallest amount of blush colors her face. I bet it's fake. They have makeup that can do that now, if you're willing to pay for it, and I'd be surprised to find out she has an ounce of passion in her. An uncertain twinge needles me- why am I so hostile toward this girl?

"Oh, Kaoru-kun..." She is breathless, and from my experience I can tell that it's not being faked. How pathetic. "_You_ may call me Kim-chan." She has not yet released his hand.

"Ah..." Kaoru straightens, and his sentence trails off. The situation has gotten sufficiently awkward. I'm about to say something that may be less than helpful.

"Hikaru, there you are!" An elegant hand lands on my shoulder, startling me a little. I was so fixed in glaring at Kimichi that I hadn't even noticed Tamaki's approach, which in itself is a statement. Everyone's eyes except mine fix on him. Today, he is especially splendid, and I can't help but compare him to the trees around us. Before spring, they had worn the drab, dull colors of winter. Now, their bark is reinvigorated, and flowers decorate the branches. Besides the usual Ouran uniform, Tamaki sports a blue top hat to match it and a white cane. On anyone else, it would do more than borderline ridiculousness. And yet... "You beautiful twin, you!" he cries, using the cane to tap against the side of my shoe.

"What do you want?" I ask suspiciously.

"What do I want!" he exclaims. "How can you think that the only reason I would come to see you would be to bother you for something? Am I not allowed to simply drop by? Can there by no acceptance of a mere 'Greetings! How are you today?'"

"No." Kaoru and I are firmly in sync on this point.

"My lord," Kaoru says, with more than a dose of skepticism, "there has never been a time-"

"- when you have come over simply to say 'hello'-"

"-maybe goodbye-"

"-but even then-"

"-you want something."

"So tell us..." We lean forward together, our inquiring expressions a match. "What exactly it is that we can do for you?"

"Actually," he responds, and an uneasy twitch of his mouth makes me pay closer attention. He taps the point of his cane against the ground as a clear stall for time. "Actually, I was hoping to steal Hikaru away for a few moments."

"Anything you can say to me--" I begin.

"Kyouya wants to speak with you," he interrupts. The behavior is highly unlike him, and I want to know why. Even so, Kyouya's on the complete opposite side of the room, and I hate to leave Kaoru with Kimichi. I throw him a side glance that says something along the lines of _Should I go will you be okay do you want me to stay?_

His lithe shoulders give a twitch, answering _I'm fine don't worry go find out what Kyouya wants to tell just you and not me... then come back and spill._

Okay, so he doesn't say that last part, but I know he wants to know, too.

I stand up from the chair, nonchalantly stretching my arms out in front of me. "I'll return to you as soon as I can." I smile and bow in apology to the customers at my table, who murmur polite responses and fix their attention to my twin. Kimichi's smile never leaves, and only grows more intense if anything when I turn. Kaoru throws me a quick grin before we lose complete contact-- he understood that my words were really only meant for him.

As soon as I begin to move toward Kyouya, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. It's Kimichi, smoothly sliding into my place at the table. My teeth clench. Although it's so first grade to be angry when someone takes your seat, I don't care. I strain my ears to hear what she begins to say, but all I hear is, "Kaoru-kun, I've been hearing about this--" Here her wheedling voice cuts out.

I'm still fuming when I make it to Kyouya, and maybe a little of it shows up on my face. I plop down into the seat across from him at his little table. The host club's shadow king raises his eyebrows and examines me.

"Rough crowd of customers today?" he asks mildly, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"What's up?" I ask, ignoring the question.

"You've met Kimichi Korogawa, I see." He waits a few seconds on a response from me, but I don't say anything. I'm still annoyed at the fact that she's relaxing in _my _chair next to _my_ twin. I don't like the fact that she's leaning closer to him. "Hikaru, could you please pay attention?" Kyouya taps his pencil, a fact I hear and don't see because I'm still watching my former table. Kimichi touches Kaoru on the arm, and I make a noise in my throat that's close to a growl. "_Hikaru_."

With obvious reluctance, I tear my gaze away from them. "What's so important?" I ask impatiently.

"What's so important is that you do _not_ upset Miss Korogawa in our club." Kyouya's look is becoming a glare.

"And why the hell not?" I snap. "It never mattered before." Unable to help myself, I look back at the table. I can't see Kaoru's expression as Kimichi rests her hand on his, but I can feel what mine looks like.

"Because, as of this morning, Miss Korogawa is a daughter of the richest family in Japan."

That gets my attention. I swivel in my chair in order to stare at Kyouya more penetratingly. There's no way he would admit to no longer being the richest unless it was undoubtedly, irreversibly true. The look on his face is one that Kaoru and I hated looking at the first time we saw it, back when Tamaki was being pressured by his fiancée to leave, and Kyouya's father slapped his son in front of everyone. I hate the look, but something inside me needles me to make comments, such as _How does it feel to be part of only the _second_ richest family in the country? a_nd _Is your company going to be bought out now? _I inhale, resist the urge, and ask instead, "So? There are a lot of rich students at this school. This club--" I throw my arm out casually to encompass the guests on the lawn at large "-- this club alone has family income that could power small countries. If she's rich, that's probably good," I conclude. "She'll be able to buy more calendars."

"If this club's inhabitants could power small countries, then Miss Korogawa's family could power this solar system," Kyouya informs me. Unlike Tamaki, Kyouya's estimations are precise. Sometimes they even border on conservative. He isn't kidding. "I understand that it's beyond you to comprehend exactly how rich she is, but think of it this way: her family is interested in buying Ouran High School."

A cold shiver runs down my spine. "But Tamaki--"

"Tamaki's family may not be able to turn down an offer like one the Korogawa's can give." Kyouya's intense stare makes me uncomfortable, and for good reason. This club exists because of Tamaki. This club continues to exist because his father is the director of the school, and we can get away with numerous incidents that would otherwise have consequences. Tamaki's family is rich enough for noticeable presence even at Ouran, and is richer than mine, actually, so if they can be bought out by Kurogawa...

"You're beginning to understand," Kyouya remarks, noting my expression.

"Where did she come from?" I demand. "I've never even heard of her."

Kyouya taps a few keys on his laptop, then swivels the screen to face me. He's blown up a large picture of what I assume is the Korogawa family, and in the foreground are two men shaking hands. "The image was captured this morning under the headline 'Largest Deal of the Century'. Kurogawa Enterprises bought the formerly government-held rights to experiment with embryo-derived stem cells."

I'm vaguely aware that stem cell research in Japan has made the news frequently of late. "Which is illegal," I point out. That much I know.

"Not if you're rich enough." Kyouya's answer is cool and unflustered. "There is unlimited potential in stem cells, and therefore unlimited potential for the amount of money that will accumulate. Investors have been pouring money into his company since the market opened this morning. If their wealth increases exponentially, the Kurogawa net worth will surpass the current richest individual in the world within a few weeks." He's right, too- I can't imagine a sum of money like that at all.

"If her family buys this school..." I scowl at the thought.

"The host club needs to remain on the nice list, not the naughty, for obvious reasons." Kyouya turns the laptop screen back to face him and makes a few more notes as I sit silently for a few moments, absorbing this. "I hope my point has gotten across to you." I turn again to watch my table. Kimichi laughs, loudly enough for me to hear even this far away, and takes Kaoru's hand. My blood boils.

"Yeah," I mutter.

I become aware that Kyouya is watching me, almost as closely as I'm watching Kimichi.

"Can I go now?" I ask pointedly.

"Of course," he says, as calmly as though we've just discussed what we will be doing for the Flower Banquet next week. I push back the chair I've been perched in quickly, causing it to get stuck in the grass, and make my way back to our table.

Everyone looks up, laughing, having evidently had a blast without me. My teeth clench inside my mouth, but I know that nothing shows on the outside. Kaoru looks up too, quickly, a little startled, and maybe a little guilty. It must be over my seat. Kimichi has taken my chair and shows no sign of moving, so I resort to the next appropriate move.

I toss a wry smile that says _don't worry about it _to him, and he gives me a look that says _I'm still worried_. Maybe it isn't about the chair. The chair was a stupid idea, anyway. I think I'm the only one who ever cared or even wasted a thought on the chair.

"What'd I miss?" I ask cheerfully, standing with my hands on my hips in front of everyone. The customers all begin to talk at once, mentioning the Flower Banquet, but I tune them out.

Even if Kimichi has stolen _my_ chair and developed a small crush on _my _twin, it doesn't matter. I can still count on our old act to get things back to normal, effectively locking her out of whatever she thinks she's getting into. Still pretending to listen, I move to sit on my twin's lap. He's a better person than me and is listening to the customers' comments, throwing in his own for good measure so that it looks like we're both paying attention. Without conscious thought, he relaxes backward from the table so that I'll have enough room to squeeze between it and his chest.

Kimichi clears her throat. I look up, almost sitting, and everyone else stops their chatter cold. They're all looking at Kimichi, who is smiling widely at me. It's an eerie situation all of a sudden, an everyday moment turned awkward, and I straighten to a standing position, uncertain of what to do. I settle for resting my arms on the back of Kaoru's chair and leaning over him to rest my chin on his shoulder. It fits in the hollow there, as it always has.

"Kimichi-sama?" I inquire. My tone is as polite as hers, if not moreso, and I congratulate myself on being the bigger person and not just ignoring her little cough completely. "Is there something you wanted to say?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to cease advances toward your brother." My heart skips a beat, then resumes at a rather hurried pace. I can't help but remember what Kyouya said about her family being ridiculously powerful, and about how we shouldn't start anything because the host club needs to remain on the _nice_ list. "At least," Kimichi amends, "for this week." I'm still reeling from the previous statement. She flutters her eyelashes at me, almost to make it seem like a joke, but it's clear she's serious. The eyelashes motion twists my stomach to the point of being sick, and I resolve to never do it again.

"What?" I say finally. What else can I say? What the hell do you say to that kind of comment so that you don't seem offended? It's especially difficult when, like me, you want to sound incredibly offended as to how some girl we only met this morning has _any_ influence whatsoever over the relationship between me and _my_ twin.

Before anyone can answer, I slide my eyes to Kaoru and read the tail end of a message.

-_don't think of it like that don't react it's not-_

"Don't you see?" Kimichi's smile is wide enough to almost take up her entire face. I feel so out of the loop that I can barely summon another wave of annoyance when she giggles. "The Flower Banquet is next week, as you know, and when I asked Kaoru-kun to take me as his date, he simply couldn't refuse." She laughs again, a sound like a pyramid of aluminum cans crashing to the ground, and takes firm hold of my twin's hand. He lets her! Inside hers, his hand is limp as a caught fish. "Isn't that lovely?"

Despite all my experience at acting, I almost lose it. I almost say, _No, it goddamn isn't._ I almost set fire to her Ouran uniform, just to watch the perfectly starched material dissolve. I almost throw the table over in her face, rub her stupid smile into the wet grass beneath our feet, and scream that Kaoru is _mine_ and that she can't have him. I almost announce to the world that it's no longer an act, that we're really, actually, truly, not-a-joke, in l--

Without a word, I turn and walk across the grass. I'm careful not to stomp, or clench my trembling hands into fists. Wouldn't want to upset our latest and greatest customer, oh no. We couldn't possibly wish to offend her so that she dissolves this host club and makes life boring again. And there's no way that I, just me, just a half in and of myself, could work up the nerve to defend my own twin and what we are in public. The bitterness, internally directed, overwhelms me, and despite Kaoru's pleading calls from behind, I continue to walk away.

---

**A/N: **Ooh! You're all going to hate me now. I promise it'll get worse for them before it gets better. XD (ducks any thrown objects)


	5. Subterfuge

**A/N:** A lot of people have been reviewing, and I thank you guys so much for that. I've been getting a lot of comments like "Hikaru must be your favorite since you write in his POV" and "Write in Kaoru's POV for once, geez!" I think that it's important to explain the why to these things. Plus, it adds another dimension onto the story, as it does once you find out anything about the author who wrote it.

I picked this story up again because right now, I'm desperately missing my own twin. We're in college, and she's abroad in England for the semester (I live in the US). Phone calls are too expensive and her Internet is unfortunately sporadic, so all contact in the past two and a half months has been limited to an email and a postcard.

I don't want to insinuate that we have the same incestuous relationship as the twins in this story (in the slightest! Haha), but we are just as close. The reason this story is so unique, I think, is because I'm not making up the idea of a secret language between twins. It's real enough, trust me. Nor am I just making up Hikaru's thoughts out of the blue. In a sense, I'm Hikaru in the relationship with my twin, and she's Kaoru. I do and say a lot more stupid stuff, and she's much more rational while I'm more emotional. That's why it's easier for me to write as Hikaru than as Kaoru, because I know what it's like to be in Hikaru's shoes and get jealous when someone steals the chair next to your twin. : ) That said, Kaoru POV will be coming up next chapter. Stay patient!

Anyway, thank you so much for all of your reviews. They really make my day and encourage me to continue this story. The past month has been dedicated to college tests, papers, and projects, unfortunately, but we should be getting back on a regular schedule for updates now.

This chapter is dedicated to the other half of my soul, who's busy doing the touristy student thing across the pond. I miss you, love. Take pictures for me. I'll have your tea waiting for when you come home.

* * *

**Subterfuge**

* * *

By the time Kaoru catches up to my intense speed-walking, I've traveled all the way around the side of the school and into the back gardens. Normally, they're filled with chattering students or at least the gardeners weeding the flower beds, but this afternoon it's too late for the students and too early for the gardeners. This early in the spring, only the hardiest flowers are out anyway. It's not worth it to most students to walk all the way out here to see them.

"Hikaru!" Kaoru's tone, which in the beginning was upset for our audience, has turned rueful. "Hikaru, will you please wait!" His footsteps hurry along behind mine, and I can't help the sneaking little thought that at least overreacting has let me get him all to myself. Because I know I've overreacted. I'm not stupid. The fact that I can't help overreacting is an entirely different problem.

I spin to face him. We've entered a small alcove that is set off the normal path, right in a grove of some unknown foreign tree species. His cheeks are flushed, as much with mixed emotions as with the exertion of keeping up with me. He's never been a very good speed-walker, just as I've never been his caliber of runner.

"Will you listen to me now?" he asks, unnecessarily. I'm sure my face is showing, beneath its usual stubbornness, a softening that is clear as day to him.

"Why did you--" My voice cracks. "Why did you have to agree to go with _her_?"

"It's not like I _wanted_ to—"

"Then you should've said no!" I snap. I hate it when the angry tears I can't help forming run down my cheeks. I swipe them away. "And how did you know about her anyway? Why didn't I?"

The raw jealousy and hurt is evident in my voice, and he takes a step closer to me. My gaze, which has been locked on his in a challenge, drops to the ground. I feel left out of our two-person world. It had to expand with Haruhi. I didn't foresee it expanding to include anyone else in the near future.

"Hey." He's so close to me that his breath tickles my nose. "Hey," he says again, until I look up. He reaches toward me with his jacket sleeve and wipes away the moisture still on my face. The sleeve drops from his hand, and his fingers catch the edge of my jaw, just holding it. "You--"

"--are overreacting," I agree. I give a sniff to clear my breathing. "But I still don't understand." I hate that I don't understand.

"Kyouya told me this morning when you stopped into the restroom before class." Kaoru spread his hands apologetically. "I didn't get a chance to tell you before we were ambushed by customers when you came out."

I shrug, accepting the answer but not liking it.

"You don't have to like it," Kaoru says softly, and the corner of my mouth tugs up in a rueful smile. "I don't _want _you to like it."

I know other twins have the desire to be different from each other, to be separate personalities, and on some level, we want that too, I guess. On the other hand, though, there's nothing more satisfying than having him read my mind. There's nothing more comforting than knowing someone else knows you for who you are and wants to be with you. The fact that someone can love your talents, your failings, your strengths, your weaknesses, and love you because of their combination is something I never want to let go of.

He's still standing so close to me, waiting patiently for my mind to be made up. I draw him toward me with both arms, making him drop his fingers from my cheek, and tilt my head downward so that I can breathe him in. My nose, buried in the shoulder of his jacket, takes in everything that is Kaoru. He lets me do it, hugging me tightly to him. His neck is lolled against my head, and at my ear I can feel the pulse point in his neck beating in a steady, relaxed rhythm. There's something about the mixture of his scent and his heart beating that is soothing. A sigh escapes me.

"You're not going to be okay once we leave here though," Kaoru says, so softly that it doesn't startle me. Between my eyes, a crease forms in reaction to that thought.

"I hate her hands all over you," I grumble.

"She asked me, and I _did_ accept... we might have to be a little more restrained in public."

"In... public?" I caught that. I pull back from him to look into his eyes. They're the most mischievous I've seen them in ages, which is saying something.

He catches my hands with his own, holding them together in a four-handed sandwich. "Just think," he says slowly, but with increasing eagerness. His fingers press firmly against my palms, rubbing them in thoughtful circles that give me chills."We've never had to hide ourselves because everyone assumes it's an act." I nod. "But now if we want to do anything, we have to hide it from the public. This can be our version of-" He tilts his head, searching for the word.

"Sneaking around?" I suggest, catching on.

"Mm-hm." His gaze holds my own, and my relaxed breathing suddenly hitches. "Sounds kind of... exciting, doesn't it?"

"Definitely exciting," I breathe.

"If we're caught..." He drops our hands. Mine fall numbly against my uniform pants. "Kimichi will be furious." Somehow, his lips have neared mine and are hovering mere inches away.

"Furious," I agree. My mind is struggling through the few coherent thoughts present like a fly through molasses. "She'll hate the host club--"

"--buy the school--"

"--and disband the club--"

"--that lets us get away with murder." His lips, grazing mine now, smile at the last word.

"Guess we can't be caught," I manage. A growing excitement rises in me, and it isn't only from my proximity to Kaoru. This will be the best game we've ever played. Secret meetings in closets and other concealed spaces dash through my head as I close the remaining gap between us.

"Game start..." he whispers.

* * *

We return to the table looking immaculate. My lips are _not_ kiss-swollen, thank you very much, and Kaoru's hair isn't mussed in the slightest. We can be discrete when we want to. That's not the issue. On previous occasions, though, there's been no need to hide our actions and every cause to exaggerate them. I slide my eyes sideways and share a quick grin with my twin. He sits in the empty chair next to Kimichi while I drag over a vacant chair and plop down between two surprised customers.

"Hikaru-kun?" one of them asks timidly, probably unsure whether or not my temper tantrum is over.

"Have you recovered, Hikaru-kun?"

I look up for the first time at Kimichi since I stormed away from the table. She's peering at me over her tea cup, hiding a smirk behind it, I'm sure. This time, I don't let her affect me. I smile at her, tilting my head with all the innocence of my twin. It helps to borrow on his habits for this type of acting. "Entirely," I reply. My smile turns devilish, eliciting a few giggles from our customers. "Miss me?"

The customers burst out laughing, chattering normally once more and asking questions of me that I don't answer. My focus is on Kimichi, whose smile has somewhat faltered. Okay, somewhat is underestimating-- she's frowning. For a second, a cold slap of doubt strikes me. Has she figured out our plan already? Was my statement too obvious?

Then Kaoru touches her on the wrist, his fingernails lightly skimming her skin. She turns to him, instantly abandoning whatever trail of thought she'd been following, and smiles. I can't believe she'd fall for such a move... but then, he does have such a wonderful, distracting smile. A jealous little demon deep inside me squeals, but I quell him with the knowledge that everything Kimichi thinks she has, everything she thinks she's getting from my twin is _fake_. The smile he gives her now isn't real. The caress of her hand by his own as she talks is subterfuge. Any insight she thinks she'll gleam into his soul is like peering into a mirror or watching a magic show; whatever trick she appears to realize will only contain another trick.

I smile, snag my tea cup from across the table and take a sip, the taste of Kaoru still on my lips. This is _fun_.

* * *

Our first foray into the new game occurs when the opportunity strikes. It's a few days after the outdoor picnic, and all the furniture has had to be moved inside due to the heavy rain. Sheets pound against the windows to produce a constant thrum of noise that dulls the cheery conversation indoors. Although it's only four o'clock in the afternoon, it's so dark outside that the bright lights of the music room appear blinding in comparison.

Despite my initial enthusiasm about the whole situation, my mood today matches the weather. Sneaking around sounds like fun until you realize that it's rather hard to do. Ouran students roam the halls, making it impossible to enter a closet without being seen, and at the host club, I'm not even allowed to touch my twin without suspicion. At home, those damn maids have been keeping a closer eye on us than usual.

A sulk descends over my features without my knowledge, and I'm only made aware of it when Haruhi taps me on the shoulder.

"Hikaru, I doubt Kimichi would mind if you sat _next_ to Kaoru." She sits down at the small table across from me, setting down a tray, and I realize I've been staring in the direction of my twin. "If you miss him so much, you should talk to her. Maybe she isn't so bad." Haruhi shrugs lightly, completely unaware of the conversation Kyouya has had with my twin and I. And knowing her, she doesn't read the stock quotes on the daily.

With a forced smile, I clap a hand down onto her head in a soothing pat. "I'm staying out of it," I tell her in a bright tone. "Kimichi wants to hog him. What do I care?"

Haruhi laughs, a refreshing sound. "Oh, you care."

"It _is _ruining our act," I agree, frowning. Kyouya had quoted the statistics to me only yesterday of how Host Club twin posters were down fifty two percent in sales.

"That's not what I meant," she says, amused, and I turn to examine her expression. Haruhi always has a sort of knowledgeable look about her, like our shadow king, only not smug. Hers is just infuriatingly penetrating. I shift in my seat, feeling like I should squirm under the scrutiny, and open my mouth to say something misleading. Then I realize she's no longer looking at me. Her gaze has been caught by something else. The words now dead on my tongue, I turn to follow the direction of her stare.

It's aimed at the same area of the room as mine was, but this time, there's no Kaoru to fill the space. "Where'd he go?" I ask anxiously. Beside me, Haruhi gets up, and I look to see her hiding a smile. "You distracted me!" I accuse.

"Doesn't take much," she retorts, picking up her tray of tea cups once more.

My attention has already swerved from her to the possibilities of where my twin could have gone. Immediately, I survey the table for Kimichi and am relieved to find her next to an empty chair. She didn't go with him to wherever he went. I perk up, thoughts swerving to dirty places. I wonder if he's snuck off to give me an opportunity. I begin to grin- I _know_ he's snuck off to give me an opportunity.

Clearly, he's given an excuse, or Kimichi would be looking worried. She looks relaxed, so it must be something like the bathroom or a phone call...

I rise casually from my seat, tossing aside my napkin, and, with a small hesitation, put on my jacket. He didn't leave his on the back of his chair like he normally would. It's a clear clue to me that he's gone somewhere cold or outside. I glance out the window while I stride to the doors of the music room. It's still pouring out. He hates the rain. Everyone knows that.

Precisely.

I feel like my face is about to split in half with the extent of my smile. Someone rounds the corner ahead, and I automatically dampen my expression. There would be no sense in alerting anyone as to what's going on. As far as they know, Kaoru's gone somewhere mundane, and no one would suspect him of furtively sneaking off for a make-out session with his _twin_.

I head to the nearest bathroom to the music room, which is luckily just down the hall. I pop inside eagerly, expecting something to jump out to me that screams "Kaoru is (insert location here)." By the time I check the eighth stall, I realize he's decided not to be obvious. The restroom is thankfully deserted, or it would look rather odd that I'm checking all the stalls. He would know that. He wouldn't mean for me to check all the stalls. Where else would he leave something? I kick around a few abandoned towels on the floor, wondering what I'm missing.

Something glints from beneath the soft, used linens.

I squat down as low as I can go, hands shoved deep in my pockets. There's no way I'm picking up an unknown shiny object from the floor of a public bathroom. This may be Ouran, but rich people are gross too, deep down. It could be anything. I poke at it with a fresh towel I've swiped from the pile on the counter and manage to clear away the remaining layers. It's Kaoru's cell phone.

I snatch it from the floor and flip open the cover. My twin's usual background, the two of us at a sushi bar, is covered with the shadow of a text. It blinks on the screen in his outbox, apparently unsent. I open it, smirking, to find a message meant just for me.

_last bear place_

The only bear he would be referring to is Tamaki's monstrosity, which we've stolen and hidden more times than I can recall. Last time we played Torment the Lord, we hid it in Ouran's bell tower, a place where everything from teacher couplings to student-teacher couplings has occurred and been recorded by us. We have a hidden video camera permanently installed just to make sure we don't miss a thing.

I pause.

… recorded? He's _dirty_.

I like it.

I erase the message and shove the phone in my pocket. If anyone asks, it'll be easy to pass off. What evidence? Sometimes, we just grab the wrong phone in the morning.

After wetting my hands for good measure I leave the bathroom, wiping them on my pants like every other guy who is too proud to use our velvet-soft towels. I expect to find someone on the other side as soon as I come out. It's practically a law of physics with those swinging doors that as soon as someone comes out, someone else must be coming in. I don't expect it to be Kimichi, but it is, of course.

"Oh," she says, looking me up and down, then simply down, down that sharp nose of hers. If she's not careful, she might put someone's eye out with that thing. "You're not Kaoru."

"Nope," I agree brusquely. I'm clearly a twin on a mission, but as far as she knows, it's to get back to my customers. She tries to peer beyond me into the restroom. I block her view. "This is the _men's_ rest room." Hopefully stating the obvious will make her back down.

Her eyes narrow, but she does stop craning her neck. The smile remains fixed in place. "I was just worried. It's been a few minutes."

"He has _business_ to attend to," I say, waggling my eyebrows on the word 'business', then breeze by before I can see her expression. I'm sure it was a classic.

It only takes a few minutes to access the bell tower stairs. They're hidden under the main staircase of Ouran and twist straight up for a few hundred feet. The climb is normally one I'd be too lazy to make. I am, howver, willing to make exceptions in the case of outstanding motivation. I skip the last few stairs, leaping to the top, and fiddle with the door. If you kick it in just the right spot, it opens despite being locked. That's what Ouran gets for caring about every room except its bell tower.

The door blows open, wind and rain soaking me almost immediately. I close it behind me, squinting my eyes against the droplets being driven straight into my eyes. All I can see is the bell in the middle of the platform. Normally, the roof would provide some protection, but it really doesn't stand a chance against this sort of wind-whipped downpour. I stumble around the bell, peering to the other side, and then I see Kaoru.

He's standing without his jacket in the tower. The rain has completely drenched the white dress shirt we wear beneath it, and by now it's flesh-colored and see-through. His nipples make two clear dark spots against the fabric. The dress pants we wear clings to his hips and outlines every minute detail of his lower half. And I do mean every detail.

"You found me." Kaoru's words are lost to the wind. It's only by his lips that I know what he's said. I would say it's lucky I was paying attention, but somehow, I've been fixated on them from the start I complete my steps around the bell slowly, hardly daring to breathe. I can't think of the slightest witty thing to say. Anything would do. _My god, you're without a jacket in the rain. My god, this is like the fantasy I dreamed up the other night. My god... you're ridiculously hot. And mine. _I open my mouth to force out some comment or other, then decide against it. His mouth is too delectable to waste words on.

The most immediate sensation is of how he's burning hot despite the cold moisture. I was cold, too, but the heat that flushes through me is from him and him alone. Our bodies press together to soak up every ounce of it. Water slaps me in the face, and I hardly feel it. All I know is the softness of his lips and how alive they feel against mine. We rip apart for a second to breathe, both of us gasping, and he smiles at me. His face is flushed, though whether with lust or fever from sitting out here in the rain for a half hour, I don't know. "Yeah?" he asks me.

There is so much in that question. There is also so much terrific friction from our wet clothing."Yeah," I say, grinning. I kick him in the back of the knees, buckling them, and cushion his fall with my arms braced behind him. My wrists are bruised by the impact, me on top, but I don't care. No one knows we're up here, most especially not Kimichi, and this is _fun_.

* * *

When I return to the music room first, soaked to the bone and muddy from the not-well-swept floor of the bell tower, everyone makes a fuss. I slump into the nearest chair and down a guest's cup of tea, thankful for the hot liquid.

"Hika-kun, what happened to you?"

"Someone get some towels!"

"Hikaru, are you alright?"

The last question comes from Haruhi, who absently holds a teapot while she surveys my condition with concern. I pluck the teapot from her grip and pour myself another cup, avoiding eye contact. A few tables away, Kimichi watches me closely. It's a close stare of what-have-you-been-up-to, not one of you're-kissing-my-dance-date.

One door of the music room opens half a foot, and Kaoru slips inside, dressed in fresh, obviously dry clothing. Not even his hair is damp, thanks to the hand dryer in the bathroom. He sits next to Kimichi amid the ruckus I've caused, and no one notices. Kimichi glances at him, smile dropping for a second. I know what question she's considering. Then she seems to think better of it and turns her attention back to me. During this special performance, Kaoru's the main act, and I'm the side show. I can do a good side show.

I take another gulp of tea and hold up my hand for silence. It's instantaneous. "It started when, up in a tree, I saw this kitten..."


	6. Jungle SOS, Revisited

**A/N:** You guys waited so patiently for that last chapter that I thought I'd put this one up a few days early. First chapter of Kaoru POV! How exciting. : )

For those of you who are curious about my twin, check out my profile page for a picture taken just after graduation. She's the one without the sunglasses.

* * *

**Jungle SOS, Revisited**

* * *

It's easy to understand obsession. It was in the Pokemon games that Hikaru and I played as children, seeking with no small amount of urgency to catch 'em all. We'd actually maxed out the counter that kept track of how many hours spent tramping back and forth in wild grass to find them. Obsession was also in the way we acted out pretend games of Sherlock Holmes, solving crimes by finding one clue at a time. I still relish the feeling of a good puzzle to fix my mind upon. What else is there to do in the little minutes that tick by as I walk to class or sit there not listening? Those precious seconds would be wasted if not for the brain-occupiers Hikaru and I obsess over.

The only thing we didn't and don't fixate ourselves on is people. Sociologists argue that people are the most fascinating things of all, because they're eternally hopeful and optimistic even in the face of extreme difficulties. I say-- _we_ say-- so what? In the end, all people are is predictable. Once they've developed habits, they stick with them. Even if they try to drop that habit, it'll always come back to bother them until they take it up again. Don't believe me? Think of the epitome of habits: smoking. Millions of people fail to quit every year, and only a couple thousand who do quit keep it that way for more than a few months. Habits are just too comforting to give up unless people are forced from them.

Once I know the motivations behind what a person does, it becomes incredibly easy to predict their actions. Where's the fun in that?

I'll admit that Hikaru and I are no exception to that rule. We're predictable, too. Maybe not as boringly predictable as some people, but still boring. Still predictable.

That's why I fail to understand the fascination Kimichi holds with me. At the moment, she chatters on, oblivious to the fact that I'm not listening, as usual. I'm sorting over the now-developing puzzle: why is she obsessed with me?

"The fact is, Kaoru-kun, that I bought three of your calendars last year," she prattles on. "One of them is in my room, one of them is my private bathroom, and one of them is for my maid. She loves you because I told her to."

"Mm," I say, trying to not be obviously disturbed.

"And yet... I feel like I want to know more about you," she says. Her tone registers as a blip in my attention span, and I look up from fiddling with the spoon on my plate. Behind her, I catch sight of Hikaru's face. He's across the room, half-concealed between a few customers at his table, and yet I can tell what kind of mood he's in: interested.

"Hm..." I murmur. She's lost my attention completely now. "And, ah, what would you like to know?" There goes my mouth on autopilot.

"Oh, anything." She smiles sweetly. Hikaru glances at his wrist. He's not wearing a watch. His hand reaches up to scratch his head, and I squint to make out how many fingers he uses. Five. Five o'clock. "For instance... what's your favorite color?"

"Blue." There goes my autopilot mouth.

"Favorite food?"

"Ama-ebi." What is he doing now? For once, I'm unsure how to interpret his actions. In an effort not to be too obvious in front of his customers, he's using his one hand and moving his index pointer and middle finger one way while he moves his pinky and ring finger another. It's like the Spock greeting, only horizontal. My eyebrows raise despite myself as I nod while Kimichi comments on my answer. I don't even know what she says. I'm concentrating on how Hikaru's skin blooms fire engine from the neck up to his ears when he realizes what I interpreted his fingers as.

"Hikaru? Do you have a fever?" I hear one of the girls ask at his table, and I choke on laughter, covering it with a drink of tea gone down the wrong pipe. Then I realize I haven't heard an individual word Kimichi's said and tune back in.

"- it's something with the salt concentration. Isn't that interesting? Do you like biology? Or do you have another favorite school subject?"

"Writing."

"Oh," Kimichi says, surprised. "You're so logical, so clear and cool-headed. I would have thought you'd like math."

"No, that's Hikaru," I answer truthfully. God knows how he manages to find the patience to sit still for an hour and a half and work out logical equations. A genuine smile tugs at my lips, born from the memory of watching him frown at a sheet of paper for a half hour straight today in class. Maybe it's just the puzzle in it that makes up for the lack of everything else Hikaru likes: zesty food (though it flushes him bright red through and through, like a lobster. I laughed until I cried the first time he tried medium salsa instead of mild), car chases (he can't help but love those movies. I've seen _Fast and the Furious_ more times than I've seen myself in a mirror, I believe), and anything to do with American cowboys (you think I'm kidding- his Halloween costume, seven years in a row). He's predictable, and it's a fact that I love.

"I see..." I glance up at her voice, still half-grinning, to find her not as happy. She's frowning into her tea cup, and I wonder why.

"I do well in math, too, though," I offer. It's like throwing a treat to a terrier. An obsessed little terrier. Immediately, she looks up at beneath me from beneath her eyelashes, which she then flutters. I suddenly want to pull back the treat and drown the terrier.

"Do you? See, I thought you would." She relaxes and takes a sip of her tea. It must be cold by now, she's been talking so much. I balance my spoon on my plate and wish I knew what Hikaru actually meant. Aside from the obvious incredibly dirty hand motion, it looked like he was flying or swimming. I can't think of a destination we'd be flying to on such short notice. He knows I hate to leave on a minute's notice without packing. Swimming is more feasible, now that the weather's improved and the Flower Banquet is only a week away.

"Excuse me."

The room quiets down, and everyone turns to face the speaker. Kyouya stands at attention, clipboard and pen in hand, while he waits for absolute silence. Kimichi turns to look too, away from me, and I take the opportunity to mouth "this?" at Hikaru and raise my eyebrows, questioning this time, not insinuating.

He nods, almost imperceptibly, and grins one of those carefree grins of his that make me smile too. It's like a reflex that I can't help. If you've ever seen a dog running down the beach, tongue blowing back in the wind, with a goofy smile of delight on his face, you'll recognize ever smile Hikaru makes.

"Ladies and hosts, I am pleased to announce a surprise trip to the Ootoru Jungle Paradise Resort." Kyouya's smile, on the other hand, is like a shark's. "If you choose to attend, please follow your hosts to find your transportation."

Swimming it is.

What can Hikaru be thinking? It's not like Kimichi won't be wanting to rub all over me like a cat in heat there anyway. I glance down to find her smiling back at me across the table. A shudder runs through me, one of those random little chills you get when someone walks over your grave. It's nonsense, of course. This time I get the feeling it's from my date's smile, which is even more nonsensical. A smile is a smile is a smile, right?

Over Kimichi's head, Hikaru's grin beams like a thousand suns, warming me and at the same time making heat pool in my stomach.

Maybe not.

* * *

It's 4:45 when we arrive, according to the large clock tower situated in the middle of the Ootoru Jungle Paradise Resort. What's a clock tower doing in the middle of a jungle paradise? Memories from the last time we were here flood my mind, and I hope that Kyouya's remembered to take out the realistic jungle wildlife. Namely the crocodiles. I step out of the car when the chauffeur opens the door, then courteously extend my hand to Kimichi.

"Thank you," she giggles, each peal twining like a high-pitched tuning fork. "Wait for me after you get changed." She skips off in the direction of the changing rooms, already surrounded by a few girls who want to associate themselves with her new money status.

"Mmhm," I hum. I anxiously scan the sea of yellow Ouran dresses for my twin. The last time I saw him, he'd gotten in a different car and winked at me. I see Tamaki, already stripped down to ostentatious red swim trunks, and a group surrounding Haruhi as she refuses to change out of her shorts and t-shirt. Mori and Hunny perch at one of the small waterside tables, drinking papaya juice, changed as well. Did everyone know we were coming here but me?

Annoyed, I walk to the changing rooms with my backpack. All the hosts are required to keep a change of swim attire with them at the club, but this is ridiculous. No one could have changed that quickly. They must have been wearing their swim shorts under their clothing.

"Kaoru, why aren't you changed?" Kyouya, who's been standing by the pool checking everyone in (and collecting their reservation fees), notices my school uniform.

"Well-" I huff.

"I told Hikaru to tell you." Kyouya frowns, shrugs, then continues. "Next, please. Ah, Paran-sama, we're so glad to have you with us today..."

I stalk into the changing room, letting the door bang shut behind me. I glance beneath the two changing room stall curtains and see no one. The area's predictably empty. Did he really forget to tell me? Were his hand signals just a last ditch effort to communicate this message? If it was, it had worked, but... I admit, I expected something a little more exciting than just a pool trip. Disappointment floods me, and I let it go in a heavy sigh as I step into the stall.

After throwing across the curtain behind me, I set down my backpack on the small, stall-wide bench that rests against a wall-length mirror. Between me and the other stall is partition that doesn't reach the floor or the ceiling. A swish of the curtains, as though a breeze had ruffled it, makes me glance up. Did it just move?

I stick my head out of the stall and glance around. No one's in the room with me. I'm ready to blame the breeze, but there are no windows. The door is still soundly shut.

Sometimes, my imagination commits cruel tricks on me, I know, and yet... I also know and trust my senses. And, almost better than myself, I know Hikaru. Suddenly, I understand the situation. And I know what he would do.

A flood of excitement rushes over me, but I don't blush. I'm much better at containing myself than he is, and if he wants to play this game, I'm all for it. I smooth my expression and nonchalantly begin to get undressed.

First goes the jacket. I let it slide off my shoulders to pool in a heap on the floor, then kick it under the bench and out of the way. I hear the key to these kind of things is to go slowly. Counting the seconds, I undo my dress shirt buttons. I pretend to have quite a lot of difficulty on the last one, finally raising it to my mouth in order to pry it off. Somewhere next to me, I hear a sharp intake of breath, but I feint ignorance.

The shirt falls open, and it drapes like that for a second before I drag the sleeves off my arms in a ridiculously slow fashion. Every centimeter of cloth passes over my skin, something I focus on, just so I won't be tempted to smirk. I examine myself in the mirror for a long moment, admiring my bare chest, running my hands across the skin of my stomach as if to feel for smoothness. Really, I'm just moving them aimlessly, but in my reflection, it looks purposeful. Confident, even. Clearly, someone who's done a strip tease before.

My hands reach my pants, fingers undoing the buckle of my belt, and I meticulously pull the leather strip through each loop. In the stall next to me, I hear a quick sound, like a creak of wood, much like the sound made if someone were standing on a bench. It's only a huge amount of self-control that keeps me from glancing up to where I'm certain Hikaru's peering down.

I unbutton the top of my dress pants and start on the zipper.

_Ziiiiiiiiiiiiip..._

The creaking wood sound suddenly turns into a sharp crack that is accompanied by a surprised 'oof' in the other stall. Startled, I drop to my knees and peer under the stall divider. Hikaru stares back at me, dazed, on his back, dressed only in swim trunks. When his eyes focus on mine, he flashes a grin upside down.

"Kyouya will sue the builders," I murmur, abruptly aware of how unclothed I am.

"Doesn't matter," Hikaru whispers, and his husky voice draws me closer like a magnet to metal. "Keep going."

"You were watching?" I pout in mock offense. I grab him beneath the armpits and tug him fully into my stall.

"You knew." He sits up once he's past the divider, one hand casually resting on my knee. His teeth flash in a quick grin that turns back into a smirk before I can blink.

"Pervert," I accuse.

"Exotic dancer," he teases, making me laugh. He rises to his knees so that we're eye-level, placing one hand on either side of me against the outside stall wall. His tongue darts out and licks his lips. I know he can't decide what he wants to do first.

"I don't want to be an exotic dancer," I say, tilting my head.

"And why not?" His eyes focus on my exposed neck, making a choice.

"You're not supposed to touch the dancers."

With a noise that's half groan, half chuckle, he tilts forward, pressing my back against the wall, and goes for it. I expect him to start gently, maybe, with a kiss against the vulnerable flesh, or a lick, but I lost that privilege after spending fifteen minutes on a strip tease. His first contact with me is when he bites- _hard_- and I gasp, the sound turning into a whimper of pleasure that takes all the breath out of me. My hands reach up, automatically, and tangle behind his neck, feeling the bare, strong shoulders that keep me where he wants me. I'm in pain, I'm in pleasure, and I never want it to end.

He isn't completely sadistic, though, and soothes the bite with a small kiss, before he moves up to savage my mouth. This is rape, the best kind, where when I move my fingers, it's to dig the nails into his back. A hum on my lips indicates I've done well, and he confirms it by attacking more viciously.

The bang of the changing room door is the only thing that makes us pull apart, panting more or less silently. I sink down the wall, still jelly-legged, and watch Hikaru leap nimbly up onto the bench like a mountain goat. Hysterical giggles rise in my throat at his wild expression.

"Kaoru-kun?" I stiffen at the sound of my name being called by the one person I didn't want to see most. I'm amazed she would even dare to come in here, seeing as it's the male changing room. She's got nerve.

"Yes?" I manage.

"Are you all right? It's been twenty minutes since you came in here..." The sound of her footsteps nears the stalls.

"Yes!" I throw out the word. "I mean, no! actually. Not feeling well enough to come out." It isn't quite a lie.

"And..." Her voice takes on an odd quality. In the pause, I stand up, bumping my shoulder halfway up the wall, and stumble onto Hikaru sitting cross-legged on the bench. He holds me there. This much skin-to-skin contact makes my head rush, and it's through a roaring in my ears that I hear Kimichi ask, "Have you seen Hikaru?"

"No," I say, not taking my eyes off my twin. His own are darkened with want, and he doesn't even smirk at my outright denial. "No, I haven't."

"Do you want me to send someone in?"

Hikaru chooses that moment to trail his hands down my chest, down my stomach...

"No," I squeak, and it's the literal noise that I make. "I'm, ah... I'll be fine. Give me five minutes to get changed, I'll be out." The sentence is spoken so fast and with so little attention that I'm sure it's incomprehensible.

"Well... I'll see you outside then. I need to speak with Hikaru anyway. I'll look for him."

I don't breathe until I hear her footsteps move away and the door bang shut. "You're crazy," I breathe, running my hands through his hair. I can feel my pulse pounding in multiple places throughout my body in reaction to his warm hands.

"You need to get changed," he responds, and it's been much longer than five minutes when I finally emerge to the pool area. I can't hide the goofy, lighter-than-air smile I wear. It's completely his fault.

* * *

**A/N: **Review, review! It makes me so happy. When I write, I go back and read the notes you've left me. It always fires me up, hence the rapidity of this chapter being posted. XD

If you're curious, Hikaru played Pokemon Red version. Kaoru played Blue.

They were both Sherlock Holmes.


	7. Dreams & Warnings

**A/N: **I can't thank you all enough for the reviews, or stress the correlation between lots of reviews and a quick update. Now, the beginning is going to have a bit of song involved, but don't freak- I'm not going all song-fic on you. We're switching back to **Hikaru POV **for this chapter.

* * *

**Dreams and Warnings**

**

* * *

  
**

The first thing I notice is that there are roses everywhere. They flood every inch of the courtyard, thorns snaking along the ground, twining around the weathered claws of the few stone benches. I take a step forward, just to experiment, and feel multiple points press into my shoe, not quite breaking through the leather. Kaoru stands quietly beside me, waiting for something. I feel like I should know what it is, but I can't quite remember and there's no time to ask.

From outside the courtyard, guests file inside. Their black dress shoes crush the roses, and I see more than one thorn sink its teeth in. No one speaks. Each girl in her yellow dress seems vaguely familiar. Perhaps they've sat at my table and I've entertained them for an hour. I wouldn't know. I can't distinguish them from each other in the slightest.

When the last guest closes the gate behind her, the area is packed. I can't spot a single rose beneath the yellow dresses, and though I'm not claustrophobic, I feel like I'm getting there. A few girls stand on the stone benches to get a better view. I glance at Kaoru, and he nods to me. I might not know the specifics of this situation, exactly, but I don't have to. They are expecting a performance.

_I'm sitting in a room  
made up of only big white walls  
__ and in the hall  
there are people looking through  
the window and the door,  
they know exactly what we're here for._

With the lightest touch, I gather my twin close to me and gaze deep into his eyes. He blinks, one long, drawn-out motion that communicates what style kiss we will perform: the double lefty. A collective sigh is released from the audience as we draw close together, our left hands in each other's hair. My fingers clench a tuft, violently. Kaoru's grip is more relaxed, almost loose. My eyes flutter shut, or appear to; I've perfected the art of appearing immersed when I'm really closely studying reactions. Do they like it? Or do they need more today to excite them?

_don't look up,  
just let them think  
there's no place else  
you'd rather be._

My eyes pick out a female customer who sits on one of the stone benches. She looks bored, if not indifferent, and as a performer, I feel offended. Abruptly, I close the distance between Kaoru and I. Now it's a fast double lefty. We are rewarded with a gasp from the audience. My twin yields, just as the fangirls like to see him do, and I follow, as aggressive as they want me to be. His lips move familiarly against mine, but something's different. Something's changed.

For once, I truly close my eyes, seeking to find out what it is. The problem is that he's not getting into what we're doing... there's no pleasure in it from him.

I draw back. To outsiders, it might look I broke the kiss for much needed oxygen. Kaoru knows better.

"What's wrong?" he whispers to me, and even that's not right. He must know what's wrong.

"Why...?" I ask.

Despite our whisperings, the audience that surrounds us, as close as three feet away, fails to move. It's as if, for them, the show is still going on.

My twin gives a small laugh. "Why?" He nods his head to someone behind me, a grin playing on his lips. It's the smile that he's previously reserved for me. With a cold ball of dread collecting in my stomach, I turn just far enough to see Kimichi.

She's dressed in her pristine uniform, exactly like all the other customers. Her smile is what makes the difference. It's less a smile and more a baring of teeth, the showing of dominance a predator gives its prey. She directs this smile at Kaoru, who doesn't appear to notice. Instead, he watches calmly as she waves at him with a handkerchief.

And I get it. She's given him permission to act out this scene with me, and nothing more. His contract with me, drawn up and finalized by her, ends the moment I walk away. I would expect it from her. I wouldn't expect him to go along. At the very least, we should be tormenting her together as we get the most from our stage-kisses. And yet, when I step toward him, he leans away, eyes fixed on her.

"How could you?" I want him to answer before I lose it and my heart shatters right here in front of everyone.

"Hikaru," he says gently, and my bottom lip trembles. "You know it was all for them." With that, he twists and extends his arms to the audience as if in thanks. They break from their trance and applaud in unison, not a single clap out of place. The noise swells and pushes into my ears, forcing tears down my face. "Our act is a success."

_you're always on display__  
for everyone to watch and learn from__  
don't you know by now- you can't turn back  
cause this road is all you'll ever know?_

"You don't mean what you're saying," I whisper.

"That's all it's ever been. We talked about this, remember?" Kaoru's tone is distant, the special tone he reserves for conversations that are over. This can't be happening.

"No, _you_ remember!" I snap. Kimichi can outright hog my twin for the next week until the Flower Banquet, but there's no way in hell I'm giving him up completely just like that. I need to tell him in order to wake him back up to reality. I need to say the words. "I..." They cling to my tongue, refusing to let go, and then I hold them back as well. What if I told everyone? The irony of our movie plot is that we probably really _would_ be arrested for what we've been doing. For what we've been feeling. I glare helplessly at Kaoru, who offers me a polite smile.

"Are you able to continue?" he asks, and I hear the sympathy in his voice. He's pitying me. "Hikaru? … Hikaru?"

_and it's obvious that you're dying, you're dying__  
just living proof that the camera's lying!  
And oh, oh, open wide  
cause this is your night,  
so, smile,  
cause you'll go out in style._

* * *

I blink, completely unaware for a moment what I'm staring at. Three fuzzy objects swerve in and out of my vision until I realize I'm not focusing. They're crumbs, on the tabletop, in the deserted host club. It's not quite time for us to open yet. I sit straight up, still not processing anything, and frown as the song continues.

_if you let me, I could-  
__I'd show you how to build your fences  
__set restrictions,__  
separate from the world  
__the cost of battle that you hate to fight,  
just blame the limelight-_

"Hikaru," my twin's voice repeats, and I recognize from his tone that that wasn't a dream either. When I look up at him, the tug of my headphone wires makes me remember. Oh. I hit the pause button on my iPod, killing the guitar solo, but I'm too distressed to care. "Hey," Kaoru says anxiously, crouching down into my field of view. I turn away-- I can feel my heart still pounding from the emotional gauntlet my brain held while I napped-- and he catches my chin gently. With his free hand, he removes the earbuds and sets them on the table.

"Nightmare?" His eyes, warm and caring once again, search mine.

"Not really." I shrug, hoping he won't ask for details. The dream rattled me enough that I don't want to share. No sense in worrying him over something so clearly fictional.

"I'm thinking it was the chili," he says, just to rile me.

"I ate three bites," I protest.

"Three too many." He ducks the coat I throw at him, laughing. "Don't forget, later-"

I'm smiling despite myself. "I won't."

"Good. Because if you did..." His eyes darken as he lets the sentence hang in the air, and their expression gives me a delicious shiver.

"Mmhm," I say, unaware that I'm making any noises at all.

Kaoru's lips tip up into a smile. "You are _too_ easy." He's watching my ears turn red.

"So are you." I flash my eyes innocently downward, and though he doesn't flush like I would, he does the Kaoru equivalent: averts his eyes and bites his lip. It's adorable. "Think about Kimichi," I advise.

He makes a face. "I'd rather not. I know she'll be here today."

"She's here every day," I say, maybe a little more nastily than I should. Tamaki's making his way to the music doors in order to open them. I reach up and adjust my twin's tie, which is slightly crooked. I'm much better at putting on ties than he is. For his birthday one year, I got him a clip-on as a joke.

"She told me she's bringing a present today..." Kaoru says hesitantly.

My eyes narrow. To say that my twin adores presents is like saying that Hunny prefers sweets. There's just no understatement that could be more vast. Obviously, there's no way he could refuse her present without upsetting her, and he doesn't _want_ to refuse her present because it's a present. I can feel the frown on my face, and he reaches up to take my hands from his now perfect tie.

"Don't do anything stupid when she does," he warns, but it's more a plead than anything.

"Won't," I grunt. My tone sounds pretty sure, if a little annoyed. Inside, though I'm wondering how I'll be able to deal. I can't help what I feel when others interact with him, and especially when it's Kimichi. Sometimes I wish that he was me, if that makes any sense. It would be so much easier to explain things if we were the same person and no one could take him from me like they do now.

"Really?" he asks. The first guest appears, peering around the edge of the door and giggling.

"Really," I answer, and it's more a reassurance for myself than him.

* * *

"Neh, Hikaru, Kaoru," a girl says brightly, setting down her tea. We're sitting at a large, round table for our guests today. Our designations have, unfortunately, gone down, seeing as we're not allowed to give our traditional performance, so Kyouya's paired us together for the afternoon. Kimichi's been perched between us like an annoying yappy dog that doesn't know when to shut the hell up, but she's just left to pick up a phone call. Excellent. I'm thinking that while touching's still out of the question, a little banter would do our reputations wonders. I turn my full attention to the speaker, tilting my head in a way that's cute. Kaoru times it so that his head tilts in the opposite direction. "I was wondering... do either of you like to bake?" It's a question we've both answered a million times, definitely at least twice in the past week, but neither of us bat an eye.

"We both do," we answer together.

"Kaoru's better," I add slyly.

"Hikaru!" my twin protests.

"It's true!" I defend myself. "Kaoru's chocolate chip muffins are the best in the world." This part isn't acting. I mean it, and Kaoru knows it. He casts his eyes downward as the yellow dresses around us titter.

"Hikaru, aren't you a good baker too?" another customer asks.

"Ah..." I search for an answer in my tea cup.

"Everything Hikaru makes ends up burned," Kaoru says, sounding apologetic, and the girls break out into fresh laughter.

"That was once!" I say, mock-offended.

"Per cookie tray," Kaoru amends, and everyone at the table dissolves into giggles at my expression. My twin blinks, an affirmation that today is going well, much better than it's gone ever since _she_ appeared. And no wonder. She kills our rapport. She ruins our act. She--

"Excuse me, Hikaru."

She's back.

When I turn to look at her, my expression of absolute disgust is flawlessly masked. Her usual smile's plastered on her face, looking as incorrectly placed as lipstick on a pig, and it only widens at my inquiring expression. "Yes?" I ask, perfectly polite. My question is so crisp, it's nearly British, and yet... I'm sure she knows it's as fake as her own game. The only confusing part is what exactly she intends to do about it...

"I'd like your advice on a piece I was thinking of wearing for the Flower Banquet." She blinks at me innocently, and I stare back, expression blank. "I know you're quite the expert on fashion thanks to your mother."

"I, uh... sure." I say finally. What else can I say? 'No, I would actually rather be naked in public than talk with you for one second?'

"It's in the other room. Kaoru-kun," she says suddenly, and her words are much more tender. "I don't want you to see yet, okay?"

"A surprise," he says brightly and I'm relieved to recognize his fake-excited tone.

She giggles, her fake blush overtaking her face. For a second, behind her turned back, I glower. If she's gonna blush, I feel like she should _blush_, not just get those perfect little pink spots on her cheeks. Where's the blotchy redness? Her ears aren't even flushed!

Kimichi looks to me and her smile droops slightly, back to its usual glimmer. Apparently, it only spikes for Kaoru. "Come." Without another word, she walks off, and I dutifully follow. I hope her dress is ugly as sin. I hope it's huge and poofy and out of style, or emphasizes her breasts (which are definite 'A's, I'm thinking), or maybe it's a size too small so that she looks fat. We leave the music room and round the corner of the hallway, me scraping my dress shoes annoyingly across the floor. We cross beneath an enormous window and turn into a small room I've never noticed before.

The moment we enter, I realize that they must ordinarily use it for uniform fitting. It's small, but well-outfitted with a complete stand of thread, differently sized needles and the like. Where a uniform would ordinarily be fitted hangs a gorgeous dress. I can't help but make that evaluation. It's a light, spring violet that will compliment rather than clash with Kimichi's hair. The stye is fitted on top, ruffles tastefully arranged to accent her small chest, and the bottom artfully swirls to look full without the need for layers underneath.

As I lean forward to admire the gown more closely, I hear Kimichi's voice nearly in my ear. "Exquisite, is it not?" I flinch sideways slighty, away from her fixed smile.

"Very nice," I murmur politely, but the understatement seems false even to my ears.

"It was designed for me," she explains sweetly. "D'avoure is a friend of my father's." The knowledge that she's spoken with Frederick D'avoure, one of the best tailors in the world, one that my mother has coveted for the entirety of her life, flushes my skin slightly with jealousy. She doesn't notice, busy as she is running her fingers over the material. I can tell from a second glance that it's made from the finest satin on the market. "Then again, I think everyone's a friend of my father's nowadays." Her tone is light.

"Ah..." I don't know what to say.

"And everyone who's a friend of my father's is a friend of mine," she adds. "Do you know why, Hikaru? Because I'm the richest single unmarried daughter in the country right now. And I'm only going to get richer."

I gawk, uncertain how to react. Even if you _are_ the richest, you're never supposed to say it. There's an unwritten law about modesty inscribed somewhere in the rulebook of high society, but it seems she missed that. Should I laugh and pass it off as a joke? I offer her an uncertain smile.

"It seems that everyone wants to be my friend, actually, except for one person." She slants her eyes toward me, dropping the sleeve of the dress, and my smile drops with it. "You, Hikaru. You don't seem to like me." My expression's frozen as my mind races through the possibilities. Obviously, if she's already seen through my act, there's no use arguing. I wait to see what else she'll say.

Instead, she turns away from the dress and toward me, taking a few steps forward. I lean back slightly.

"I've been nothing but kind," she says, her tone cold. "True, I asked your twin to the dance and not you, but it can't be jealousy. If it were, you'd be trying to attract my attention instead of minimizing it. If nothing else, you'd be happy that my being friends with you and Kaoru-kun has drawn such attention this past week. Your own ratings may have faltered, but the club's has skyrocketed, correct?" Maybe that's the reason Kyouya hasn't been around to say more than boo in the past couple days.

"It's only logical to assume, therefore, that the cause doesn't lie with me. It must be something in the relationship between you and your twin." Her eyes gleam as I blanch, all color leaving my face. A leap of terror sets my heart into my throat, and the pulse beats there to drain all the thoughts away from my brain. The numbness, the feeling that _this can't be happening_ is still set in as she continues, "It is, isn't it? You really are obvious. You'd be the easiest person to interrogate." She laughs, cruel and high-pitched.

I wet my lips, trying to think of anything to say that wouldn't be rude or lead her further to the obvious conclusion. "It's not--"

"Shut up," she interrupts, grinning wickedly, and perches on top of a spinning stool the tailor would use. "Don't you get your place here? You can't say a thing out of place to me, or I'll go running to my daddy and get him to shut down your little club. Then your act with Kaoru can't get any more... _practice_."

I break out in a sweat on the last word, my face heating up. "I don't know what you're insinuating--" I start, my tone growing louder.

"Uh-uh," Kimichi tsks. I clamp my mouth shut, feeling like the anger's going to explode out my ears."Wouldn't want to upset me. Now let me guess what's going on." She claps her hands excitedly. "It's something to do with you and Kaoru, I know... something big," she guesses, watching. my face. Nothing about it changes, from what I can feel. I wish I had Kaoru with me. He'd know exactly what to say to unnerve her. He'd look as cool and unaffected as ever. Meanwhile, I just stand here looking red and flushed and guilty... a surge of frustration makes me clench my fists.

"It _is_ something big," she confirms. "Something the rest of the host club doesn't know... something about the true reason why you two put on your act?" She spins around on the dressmaker's stool, tapping on her chin. "Because when I stopped your little gig, you were pretty angry..." she trails off, looking at me closely. What expression could I put on to throw her off track? "I've got it.." she whispers, a huge delighted smile splitting her face in two.

If my heart jumped before, I don't know what it's doing now. Seeing as I can't feel it anymore, it must be skipping more than a few beats. "It's so obvious, isn't it?" she demands. "I can't believe I never saw it before."

I manage a weak smile in response.

"Not that it's not sickening and utterly revolting," she throws in, sneering at me. "How you could do it, I'll never know. But listen," she continues, jumping off the stool and smoothing down her skirt. "If you continue to behave and stop interfering with my and Kaoru-kun's happiness, maybe I won't tell anyone." It's clear blackmailing, and I hate to agree with it. On the other hand, her throwing open the door of the metaphorical closet could ruin us, forever. There's nothing like incest to get you arrested, scorned, and, more importantly, separated from your twin.

"Good," she says brightly, evidently taking my silence for agreement. "Because I want you to know that I intend to be with your brother forever. He'll fall in love with me evetually and you can't stop it." She takes me by the shoulder, squeezing it hard enough to make me wince, and steers me to the door. We exit, me still bone white and her smiling in satisfaction. "I'm glad we had this chat. I should've known, maybe... though I thought you were more the loyal type." Huh? I blink and try to look like I know what she's talking about. "Betraying Tamaki to make a club of your own in order to focus on incest just seems... wrong somehow." Then she shrugs. "Not that it matters to me. Keep your pretty little mouth shut, and everything will be fine." By now we've reached the doors of the host club, and the last smirk she offers me is the final one before her expression changes to the same frigid smile she always wears. Thankfully, she isn't watching me anymore. The way I hold onto the door for support and breathe out a sigh of extreme relief would have been a bit of an indication.

We enter together, and I can see Kaoru craning his neck, anxiously looking for me. He spots us and smiles, waving to me, but I can see the tension in his shoulder muscles from here. Kimichi beams and skips over to the table while I hang back. I mouth my message. _Later, at home. Meet you there._

_Okay?_ he manages, despite being surrounded by customers.

_I'm fine. Cover for me._

Somehow, the idea of him getting a gift later pales in comparison to the gift I've just gotten.

_Kimichi doesn't know!_

_

* * *

  
_

Later, I'm awakened from a relief-nap by the sound of our bedroom door closing. "Mm?" I ask, not opening my eyes.

"It's me."

"Mm."

"Guess what."

"Mm?"

"Kimichi got me a present."

"... Mm."

"And guess what else."

"Mm?"

"I regifted it. For _you_."

His husky tone prompts me to look up, and I blink, bleary-eyed from my position in the middle of the bed. The shades are still pulled down from when I got home earlier in the afternoon and the sun was blaring. Even in the darkness, though, the form of my twin is hard to mistake. The light from under the door reveals bare feet, bare legs, bare arms... I peer closer, frowning. On his shoulders and middle, there's something frilly. "What the hell are you wearing?" I ask finally.

"Shh, not so loud." He moves closer, ruffling whatever it is. "The maids are right down the hall. And it's an apron."

"A _what_?"

"An apron."

"... just an apron?"

"For when I bake." He sounds delighted. "It has _lace_."

"Lace?" Maybe my voice is too eager, because he laughs.

"If you want to borrow it..." he teases.

"I don't want to borrow it. I want to take it off you."

"Then- no, that's one of the straps. You have to get one of the strings."

"I have one of the strings. What is this, a timber hitch?"

"Only knot I remember how to do."

"For apron strings? Why not just do the shoe tie?"

"Because I wanted to give you some level of difficulty. I'm not easy, you know."

"We've had this discussion. You're easy."

"For _you_."

"Likewise."

"... oh. Mm."

* * *

**A/N: **Song is called Fences by Paramore, and it's awesome. Here's a tiny extra for waiting so patiently.

* * *

"Your fault for tying such a knot. On the front, is that a--"

"Bear."

"Bear?"

"Bear."

"Heh. Heh heh. The question is, have you been a---"

"Don't. Don't you dare."

"... have you been a _bear-y_ good boy?"

"You went there. I can't believe you went there."

"Oh, I'll be going somewhere in a second..."

"Good."

"... just _bear-ly_."

"Stop it!"


	8. Maybe Not

**A/N: ** Here we are, ready to get back into the swing of things. My better half has been home and left again, which is I guess why I'm sitting here writing. Miss you, love.

Sorry you all had to wait so long! I've had MAJOR writer's block. I had up to 'goldfish' in this chapter until around 11pm tonight. Suddenly the words just leaped out of me. It felt pretty nice, actually, after straining for anything to give all of you for the past couple months. XD Right. So it's now 2:30 in the morning and this is almost entirely unedited, but I figure you all don't mind very much... right? ; )

Enjoy!

* * *

**Maybe Not**

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**

"Are birthday suits acceptable? They are suits, after all."

From across the room, I can hear Tamaki shrieking through Kaoru's cellphone, the speakers actually crackling as they try to keep up with him. I smirk and cross the room. "You did say 'as long as you wear a suit'," I remind him through the phone, doing my tie without looking.

Kaoru grins, the natural one that's just for me, and I meander toward the full-length mirror that hangs from the closet door to make sure I'm presentable.

"Yes, of course," my twin says soothingly into the phone behind me. "Naturally, we're only joking. We'll see you there, yeah?" He flips the phone shut without waiting for an answer and first chucks it onto the bed, and then himself. "I don't want to go at all," he grumbles. "The whole night will be Kimichi leading me around like a… a… like a trophy host. Or one of those goldfish you win at fairs that live for three days and then die."

"Well, you _are_ a prize," I can't help pointing out. The way he's flung himself onto the bed, neatly pressed suit already a little rumpled from it, tie askew, as usual… I swallow and turn back to the mirror. My chest rises as I take a deep breath. I read an article online the day before about the power of the mind over matter. Okay, so it was advice for sex addicts, but I think it applies here. Not that I'm a sex addict.

Or am I?

"Hm?" Kaoru teases. "What's that?"

Maybe he is...

The limo will be showing up in the next five or ten minutes. I'm tempted to take my usual position and not give a crap about being late, but that's usually refuted by Kaoru's more mature stance of _we can't be late this is important blah blah_. That would be the usual. _Unfortunately_... I stare, half-mesmerized, into my twin's sultry eyes. I can feel the heat flush up from my core until it reaches my neck, blatant against my black pinstripe suit. Kaoru doesn't exactly seem to be in the responsible sort of mood.

"Hikaruuuu?" he almost purrs, dragging out the last "ooo" sound and ending it with a lick of his lips. "Could you help me with my tie?" The innocent question is packed with more heat than a sun flare in July.

"Um..." I breathe, torn between what to do. He rolls over onto his back, his white dress shirt pulling out from where he tucked it in, and I get a tantalizing flash of pale skin. His eyes question mine, upside-down, and he crooks a slender finger in the universal _come hither_ gesture. "We're going to be late, you know," I say, reluctantly playing _his_ part. "Kyouya will be pissed as hell, and there'll be consequences..."

"Damn the consequences," he whispers, grinning and sliding his eyes across the room to make sure the door is shut. Then they return to me. "Come here."

Of course, when I'm given the choice between being responsible and choosing instant gratification... fuck it.

It takes maybe a second for me to cross the room and kiss him upside-down. His mouth tastes _oh _so good, and I think to myself, briefly, while thoughts are still possible, that this is exactly _why_ I choose instant gratification every day. My hands, curved around his cheeks, run down his neck to his tie, tugging either side of the loop to let him know he's going no where. He wriggles in pleasure. We play our games, but I know exactly how much he likes it when I'm in control. I pull back, allow him to take a gasp of air while I bite at his lower lip, and dive in again.

A knock sounds on the door.

We throw ourselves apart.

By the time the maids enter to announce the limousine's arrival, I am resolutely staring into the full-length mirror while Kaoru attempts to redo the tie I've pulled loose. My blush refuses to die down. _Damn_. Are dress pants always this confining? I peek under my eyelashes at Kaoru through the mirror, between the hands of the maid who fixes his tie, and find his gaze fixed on me, still smoldering.

_Double damn._

This is going to be a long limo ride.

* * *

Thankfully, my anatomy calms in the ten minutes it takes our limousine to arrive at the banquet hall, and I emerge with my usual skin tone. That doesn't, however, mean my appetite is any less. What is it about a suit on his lithe figure that drives me so mad? I extend my hand to help him from the limo, and he smiles wickedly up at me. "Hungry?"

"Starving," I reply with an identical smile. He climbs from the car and poses with me for photos, both of us beaming as Ouran students cheer wildly around us. It seems like there's a great turnout. Sure enough, I spot Kyouya's gleeful grin before he is is lost in the mingling crowd. Grand steps lead up to the main entrance, flowers of every kind blooming from their edges. Tulips, daffodils, violets, daisies, roses...

"Hikaru-kun, Kaoru-kun!"

"You look so handsome!"

"Take a picture with me, Kaoru-kun!"

It's a full half hour before we make it inside the entrance hall, but it's worth the wait. Gleaming marble columns dot the large, airy room, complimenting the matching floor and ceiling. A sign proclaiming "Welcome to the Ouran Host Club's Spring Flower Banquet!" hangs above our heads. Well-dressed waiters sail around the floor with trays of sandwiches, cakes, and drinks, and my nose tells me that they aren't virgin (the drinks, I mean). Sure enough, I spot an open bar tucked into the corner, next to a local band that will be the opening act for the main event later.

"Welcome." Kyouya appears next to us, a smirk that is more smile tonight etched into his face. "Kaoru, you've made an excellent choice in dining arrangements, as usual. We've been receiving nothing but compliments." I blink, having almost forgotten that _oh right_, Kaoru did pick this place ages ago when we were just beginning to plan it.

My twin mock-bows in reply, but before he can say anything, _she_ shows up. I knew my night would have to be ruined eventually.

"Kaoru-kun!" she cries, rushing in to hug him, and I stiffen, taking a step back to avoid getting bowled over. Her hair is professionally done, and the gorgeous violet dress looks better on her than it did on the hanger. I feel my lower lip pull down in a sulk.

"Kimichi-san," Kaoru replies, with just the perfect mix of friendliness and politeness. How does he do it? I'm envious once again. She lets go so that he can make an elegant leg in front of her before he offers his arm. "Would you like to take a stroll around the room with me?"

"I would do you that honor," she simpers, and my nails clench into the skin of my palms. _Why, that little-_ "Hikaru?" Her tone of voice changes abruptly. "Be a dear and fetch us drinks. I'll have a martini, dry, with two olives. And Kaoru-" she hesitates, faltering a little. Kaoru smiles kindly, and I can see the smirk lurking behind it. It's the only thing that prevents me from losing it. "What would you like, Kaoru-kun?"

"The usual." He beams at me, and I enjoy the fact that Kimichi looks entirely puzzled, that she doesn't get to know that Kaoru likes coconut rum and coke with one part rum, three parts coke, and a little ice, and a bit of sugar just around the rim, and one of those little cheesy umbrellas if there are any, and by the way, Kimichi _doesn't know it and I do._

Yeah, I'm way mature like that.

"Sure," I beam back, and we share such an obviously loving gaze that a fangirl nearby sighs in happiness. Sometimes it's just too easy.

"Kaoru-kun, I want you to tell me about this place," Kimichi says loudly, tugging his arm so that he must look away from me. "I know you picked it yourself, and it seems just _lovely_ so far--" She steers him away from Kyouya and me until I can no longer hear his polite reply.

"On the bright side, she doesn't seem to mind sinking down to your level," Kyouya observes wryly, then levels one of his sharp _don't-fuck-it-up _glances on me. "It's one more night. Behave."

* * *

Over at the bar, I contemplate his words as I make small talk with the guests, doing my best to be cordial. I answer questions and receive compliments, all the while hatching a small, yet stirring plan. And by stirring, I mean thrilling. It's not that it's a risky plan. It's that it all depends on how Kaoru reacts. I'm fairly certain that, given his earlier stance on being responsible, he'll go along with it. It's the part after that that I'm hesitant on. Then I mentally shrug, even as I tease the freshmen surrounding me so much that one of them faints. What's the worst that could happen? Besides, it wouldn't be _me_ misbehaving.

Excusing myself, I order the drinks, making his one part coke, _three_ parts rum, and choosing a simple glass of red wine for myself. At least one of us has to keep our heads tonight, and I'm not the lightweight in this relationship...

* * *

Of course, Kaoru knows as soon as he takes a sip. His lip quirks up, a small indication that he has tasted far more alcohol than he usually does in his choice of drink, and he nearly makes a face.

"-don't you think?" Kimichi ends the rant on some movie that she's been on about, and he's just in time to nod and mutter a polite _oh, yes_ before she's off again. She pauses only briefly every now and then to take a sip of her martini, which I haven't messed with at all because I don't have a death wish. I can feel Kyouya's eyes on us from across the room, along with the other hosts, whom I'm sure have been instructed to keep a close eye on the pair of us. I decide to make it easier for them and, with a polite nod, meander off. I catch a glimpse of Kimichi's triumphant smile as she pulls Kaoru closer, still talking, but I pretend not to see, grinning to myself.

"Hikaru-kun?" a voice inquires from somewhere below me, and I glance down to see Honey looking up at me suspiciously. Speak of the devil! Or one of them, at least. I survey the room and spot Mori leaning on a pillar, watching his charge.

"Enjoying the party?" I ask cheerfully, taking a sip of my wine. I can feel it going straight to my head.

"Yes," he answers, frowning up at me. "The question is, why are you?"

"Because it's the last night that someone else gets to hog my twin," I lie, and try to inject some feeling into it. Honey isn't usually easy to fool. Tonight, unfortunately, is no exception.

"I'd believe that if you didn't have a crocodile smile on your face," he says. He rocks thoughtfully back on his heels, then forward again. "I'll be watching you."

"If you're into that," I tell him. At that moment, a swam of shy freshmen approach to get their pictures taken.

* * *

By the time I make my way back to my twin a half hour later, he is truly and royally trashed. The best part is that no one can tell. I'm the loud drunk between the two of us, and while Kaoru would normally become quieter, he hasn't had much of a chance to add anything to the one-sided conversation Kimichi's holding with herself anyway. I press another rum and coke into his hand.

"And that's when I said 'I just won't stand for it!' What else could I do?"

"Dunno," Kaoru murmurs. The word is very very slightly slurred. I resist the urge to giggle.

"I know! So I fired him and spread his name around to my father's other companies," Kimichi sighs. "It was really quite a shame."

"Miss Kimichi-san," someone says urgently from behind her, and Kaoru and I crane our necks to look around her. I blink at the newcomer, a young woman who looks like she might burst into tears at any moment.

"Masuyo," Kimichi says, and I'm surprised to detect an edge in her tone that's normally reserved for me. "Kaoru-kun, this is Masuyo, my maid."

"An honor to meet you." Kaoru nods, then casually steadies himself on a nearby table. "

"Miss Kimichi-san, I need to speak with you." There is obvious fear in Masuyo's voice, but she must think she's hiding it well. Her eyes are fixed on the ground, carefully blank, and despite the situation I've planned, my curiosity stirs.

"I hope everything is all right?" I venture. Kimichi looks at me in surprise, as if she forgot I were there. She probably did. Stupid cow.

"I'm certain it is. If you'll excuse me, Kaoru-kun. I'll be back momentarily..." She hesitates.

"I'll be waiting, Kimichi-hime," he tells her, earning a winning smile. With a last glare at me, she stalks after her maid, violet dress and all, and the smirk finally reveals itself on my face.

"I asked for one part rum," my twin says, scowling. He peers into the full cup I have just given him and sniffs it warily. "What is this? Two and a half?"

"Three," I answer.

"You know, you don't have to make me pass out to take advantage of me."

"Who said I wanted you passed out?" I smile sweetly, and his lips part slightly, mouth open, as he realizes what I mean. I arch an eyebrow in clear question.

"So what's the plan then?" he murmurs, aware of the fact that he has no idea of his volume . Thankfully, the crowd around us is laughing, talking, and dancing to the music, which grows louder by the minute.

"You picked this place. Are there any... private areas we could retire to?"

"Hmmm," he hums, thinking, and taps his chin, almost spilling the coconut rum and coke. His fingers twiddle with the umbrella in the glass. "There isn't any."

"Aren't any," I correct. "I have an idea."

"Oh boy," he responds, rolling his eyes. Then he takes another gulp of his rum and coke. "What?"

* * *

"This is the idea?" Kaoru says skeptically. "This is... this is small."

"You didn't come up with anything better, did you?"

"You've got me _drunk_," he retorts. "I have an excuse." He sets down his empty glass on the floor, almost knocking it over.

We're hidden under one of the long buffet tables that is conveniently covered with a thick, white floor-length tablecloth. We can see the indistinct features of legs milling around, but not too many. Dinner's passed (we missed it while we snuck under the table, me leading the way and Kaoru weaving as he crawled) and most of the guests and hosts are dancing at the moment. I can hear Haruhi's laugh as Tamaki spins her around mere feet from our location.

"I've finished all of my drink," my twin complains, slurring 'drink' so that it sounds like 'duuurink'. "Don't laugh!" He looks so indignant that I chuckle more until he lurches to his knees under the table, hands on his hips, and glares. When that doesn't work, he gives me a shove to knock me off-balance and takes himself down as well. The result is a position where I stop laughing.

"Not so funny now, is it?" Kaoru demands, oblivious for the moment. I intend to change that. His face, so close to mine, is too tempting. I lick the tip of his nose, making him giggle like the tippler he is. Then I catch his lips, and he stops laughing too.

Every time I kiss Kaoru, it's like I've never done so before. Like I'm lost in the Sahara and I find a garden hose. Like I'm a starving man presented with a feast. Every taste is better than the last, and his soft mouth lets me lose myself in him, almost as if we really are in one body, one full soul.

So maybe I should have taken into account the effect he has on me, one that's more powerful than any rum and coke.

Maybe I should have realized that for him, the rum and coke is intoxicating enough.

And maybe I should have realized that flipping him over would mean rolling length-wise out from under the narrow table before a score of club members and hosts.

I only notice what's happened when the shocked silence presses in on even my blissful world. I relinquish Kaoru's lips, shush his drunken protest ("_Hey_!"), and straighten up to look around. I know how it works from experience, but something's wrong. Normally every girl in the room would be squealing in excitement by now- what's stopping them?

That's when I see Kimichi frozen twenty feet away, her maid cringing behind her breathtaking violet dress, her beautiful porcelain face with its two perfect spots of color, and her plucked-eyebrow expression- _livid._

Yeah. Maybe not my most well thought-out plan...


	9. The Reveal

**A/N:** Hey, only a month between updates. That's not so bad. XD Thanks so much, everyone, for your great reviews! I would especially like to thank **xBakura's lovex** and **Paperblank** for the motivation.

Keep in mind that the first part of the chapter is in Kaoru's POV and the second part is in Hikaru's. But uh oh... we're definitely not starting out in Kaoru's POV next chapter, that's for sure... ; )

* * *

**The Reveal**

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_Kaoru's POV_

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_

"_Hey!_" I protest when Hikaru's soft lips leave mine. For a moment I search blindly by feel with my lips, but all I get is the material of his suit jacket. Something seems off about the whole situation though. It's awfully quiet when the room was loud enough with music before to give me a pre-hangover headache. Finally, sitting there, thinking in the darkness behind my eyelids, I realize I should look around.

I _hate_ being drunk.

With some effort, I crack open my eyes and survey the room. We're out from under the "clever" hiding spot Hikaru chose and in the eyes of the public. _Ahhhh_... I blink stupidly at all of them, any great explanation for my situation nonexistent. Where the words would normally be is a big ol' blank space where I believe there used to be a few brain cells. Damnit. Have I mentioned that I _hate_ being drunk?

_Oh no_. I can actually feel myself sober up a little when I spot Kimichi staring furiously at us. What do I say? What _can_ I say? _Sorry, but that whole time I was 'dating' you for this Flower Banquet, it was rather like that Lily Allen song. How does it go? 'How on earth can I be anymore obvious? It never really did and now it's never gonna happen with the two of us!' _I can feel giggles in my throat, more hysterics than anything else.

Hikaru preemptively shushes me, and I glance up at him. It's only been about ten seconds, max, since we rolled out from under the table. The situation's still able to be saved. I'm hoping he has a plan because, even smashed, I know enough to know I don't have the faintest notion of one.

"Well," Hikaru says to the room at large. "Time to admit everything." He inhales, taking a deep breath, and while he does, whispers start at the corners of the room. Kimichi remains frozen where she was, still looking angry, but slightly more worried. In direct contrast to her is Kyoya, who looks much more worried. And also furious. He sends me a death glare that my dulled sense of everything wonderfully mutes. So there _are_ perks...

I shift my gaze back to Hikaru, realizing it's been a good five seconds and he's still silent. He's standing up, cute little lines forming between his eyes as he picks his words. Clearly, someone here needs to get into action.

It takes only a moment for me to lurch to my feet. Okay, a long moment during which I pull myself up by climbing the (traitorous) tablecloth. There is thankfully too much food and heavy china still on the table for it to give way again. "Attention," I say. Everyone in the room switches their shocked stares from Hikaru to me.

"Kaoru," my twin murmurs urgently, but I ignore him. I focus on not slurring.

"I am in love... with my twin." A wavering hand points to my face-palming brother, just in case everyone in the room isn't aware of who he is. "And I've been in love with him all my life." A subtle 'awwww' passes through the audience. I know I have them. "And..." I sway slightly, the tablecloth shifting, "I apologize, Kimichi-hime." I fall into a sweeping bow, literally, and Hikaru catches me, his tense posture a subtle warning.

_Keep it together. _

I struggle back to my feet, and my twin releases me once I have my balance. Kimichi is still frozen, but now her mouth's dropped open slightly. I keep going while I have the opportunity. "I'm sorry that I had to deceive you. All of you," I add, turning to the surrounding host club members. "It was an act, originally... but not anymore. I love Hikaru, and I can't pretend it's not real anymore."

There is a horrible silence after my last statement, and I close my eyes, not sure whether the flips in my stomach are due to nerves or the rum. Sure, they were all over the "how cute the twins are together!" idea a few moments ago. But now? Now that I've actually said it isn't a joke...? I peek up from underneath my lashes. Behind me, I can feel Hikaru not breathing.

That's when, thank god, someone claps. I look up fully, sure I know who it is, and I'm right- Haruhi claps, politely but firmly, a smile on her face that refuses to flinch despite the awkwardness. Someone joins in- a junior we met last week. The fact that she likes gardening drifts absurdly through my mind, and I can only stare at her gratefully. One by one, others join. There's a senior Hikaru and I have entertained for two full years now, a freshman who finally decided to cut her hair like she's always wanted because I told her she would look cute, and a shy guest who's never said a word to me, but always takes her coffee black, no sugar or cream.

I don't know if it happens to anyone else when they're drunk, but my mind tends to get caught up on these little facts. Time passes while I stay stuck on something without me knowing. That's why it feels like one second until most of the room is clapping. Behind me, Hikaru lets out an almost silent whoosh of air.

"That was one way to do it," he says, more sigh than words.

"If your face could be any redder, you _would_ be a beet," I say, giggling, and he rolls his eyes.

"You realize what you've done, right?" For once, he's the one who sounds exasperated. "Kyouya's going to be pissed. Beyond pissed. He's going to be _pissed_."

"It'll be more profitable in the end. Somehow." I conclude.

"_You_-" he says, and that's all he needs to say. The tension leaves his frame, and he gives me his perfect goofy smile as a last resort. "You are amazing." With that, he turns to beam at fans behind us.

Time skips another beat for me, and I suddenly notice Kimichi about two feet away. No one else in the cheering, clapping, screaming mass seems to remember how scarred she must feel by this whole ordeal, and even I forget.

I remember once she pulls back her hand and slaps me so hard across the face that I don't see stars- I see galaxies. I go back to the universe's beginning. Turns out, the big bang theory is fairly accurate. It has a lot to do with noise and colored pain. But it also looks somewhat like a dance floor, much like the one I'm now crumpled upon. And it kind of makes me feel like throwing up, a little, but I hold that back for now. I do have some dignity left.

That doesn't mean Hikaru does.

* * *

_Hikaru's POV_

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_

My immediate reaction is to punch her in the face. I actually take the first step forward before I stop myself. Okay, before Kaoru starts hugging my ankle in a clear, albeit drunk and disoriented message of _don't fuck it up_. He lets me go, though, to clutch hold of his cheek, and I reconsider it.

"Excuse me!" Kimichi shrills. "Excuse me!" The crowd around us quiets down at last; only the guests closest to us saw what actually happened, and the rest of them crane their necks, puzzled as to why my twin's sprawled on the floor. Apparently, Kaoru and I have exchanged blood without having any physical connection whatsoever, because the blood completely drains out of his face (besides a red-as-hell handprint) and into mine.

"Excuse me!" Kimichi says again, though I have no idea why- everyone's dead quiet. She fiddles with the edge of her perfect violet dress, possibly ruining the lace. I hope she is. Behind her, Masuyo is in the midst of a perpetual cringe. She fiddles nervously with a blue ribbon that winds through her braid as her mistress rants. "I should like everyone to know that Kaoru..." she falters on the 'kun' that almost rolls so easily off her tongue "... that Kaoru was _my_ date for this ball and- and there shouldn't be such celebrating because he's, because he's with someone else." She glares around, sets her hands on her hips. "You should all be ashamed for supporting something like this. For supporting the _sexual_ love of two brothers. Isn't it awful? Isn't it disgusting? When really, Kaoru should be in love with me! Because I love him." She looks absolutely miserable. Sounds worse. The guests near her avoid her demanding gaze.

By this point, I almost feel guilty because she's so pathetic, and it's only the fact that Kaoru's still reeling on the floor that keeps me angrier than I am pitying. "Someone doesn't have to love you just because you love them," I point out. I never was very good at shutting the hell up.

Kimichi turns her fury on me. "And you! You, Hikaru, are the one behind this. This whole time, you've been egging Kaoru on to pretend he was in love with me. He pretended-"

"He didn't," I interrupt. "He didn't even pretend that. He was polite to you, as is the duty of any host." Somewhere, I'm sure, Tamaki is wincing at my host job description and preparing to lecture me later.

"That's not true!" Spots of color bleed past the fake ones that she's been applying all this time. (There's one theory proven true!) "Why... we went for walks in the garden by ourselves. _Intimate_ walks," she adds.

"Um..." says a voice from the crowd. Kimichi and the rest of the room, myself included, turn to see the ghost-white freshman who never speaks scratch her head. "Um.... Kaoru and I have gone for walks in the garden many a time."

"Well..." Kimichi sputters. "We held hands during it. And he picked me flowers."

"Kaoru has often picked me flowers," another guest calls out from the crowd.

"He asked me to this ball."

"I went with Kaoru to the Winter Waltz," someone else says.

"I know his favorite color!" The pitch of her voice peaks on color, and my ears hurt in an unnatural way that hides behind my eyes. Here I was intending to get Kaoru drunk, and the familiar-feeling headache makes me realize I've done a number on myself.

"So does everyone." Kyouya stands on the edge of the crowd, calmly surveying her over his glasses. "It's on the calendar." I wonder what he thinks of this situation. As usual, his glasses hide any clues his eyes would give me, not that I would get many. Reading Kyouya is the equivalent of trying to read braille without the sensitive fingertips of the blind and no training.

Kimichi stands, sputtering, and the deepening color of her cheeks makes me realize she was counting on Kyouya to stand up for her. And I realize that I was, too. Actually, I'm proud I noticed that at all. Who says I can't be intuitive when I want to? Kimichi is still open-mouthed, resembling a fish that's been caught in mid-leap. She's clearly reached the end of evidence list; time to pounce.

"But- but they're brothers," she spits out, again. Can't she seem to get over that? It's a social taboo, sure, but it's not like we'll be producing deformed babies or anything. _If we even get to that point_- I break off that train of thought by demolishing the tracks before it. "I mean," Kimichi goes on, and her voice shifts into something that's oh-so-reasonable. "Can't you see how sick it would be for my sister and I to do that?"

"I'd be into it," Kaoru mutters thickly from the floor, and a smile struggles against my carefully controlled expression.

"Miss..." Masuyo whispers, loud in the attentive silence of the crowd. "Miss, don't you remember? Your sister is--"

A sob bursts from Kimichi so violently that I half expect something to force its way up out of her throat. Her hand flutters to her mouth and, giving her maid a violent shove, she dashes through the crowd to one of the exits, the violet dress swirling in her wake like an angry sea. Masuyo remains frozen another beat before following in a hurried, stilted trot in the cleared path. The faces in the crowd are turned to watch her, and I take advantage of it to hoist Kaoru to his feet. He drapes an arm around me to keep his balance just as the guests and hosts refocus.

As usual, we're the main act.

"Er," I say in the expectant silence, "does anyone else want to say their piece now?" I feel like we're in the midst of a Comedy Central roast. "Possibly complaining about incest?" There are a few titters before both Haruhi and Kyouya step forward in sync. They both glance at each other in surprise; then Haruhi beats him to it.

"I believe that all our guests are aware by now of Kaoru's and Hikaru's love for each other. They can't help it any more than the weather. Besides," she adds wryly, "they've pretended for so long that incest- or in this case, twincest-" laughter almost drowns out the rest of the sentence "-doesn't seem so far off from normal."

Kaoru sways dangerously against my shoulder, a smile fixed on his face, but I see through it without thinking. "Uh-oh."

The fangirls surrounding us ignore me, as caught up in cheering as they are. Haruhi glances at Kaoru's face and blinks. "Er... is he going to...?"

"Vomit? Upchuck? Blow chunks?" I suggest.

"Any one of those."

"... yup." I begin wading through the mass of people.

"Hikaru." I hear Kyouya's voice behind me and, without looking, raise up a finger in a gesture to wait.

"Mommy, give me a minute here. One of your children is about to gross out the guests."

I hear Kyouya heave a sigh from behind me, but there's no time to glance back and see his expression.

Kaoru is already dry-heaving as we stumble at a good speed to the edge of the room.

"Honored guests," Kyouya begins just as we exit the main hall. I'm guessing he's starting full-fledged damage control, which I would actually love to watch. Unfortunately... Kaoru hiccups, his face paler than a full moon as I drag him to the nearest restroom and push the door open with my shoulder. It's a beautiful bathroom that's thankfully unoccupied, and it matches the quality of the establishment it inhabits, everything inside either gold or something like it.

Me, I'm just glad there's a toilet.

The moment I guide Kaoru into the first stall and position his head, he loses the rum and cokes, dinner, lunch, and possibly breakfast. A few more heaves, and it's over for a second or two.

"I...._ugh_... am pissed at you..." he mutters. I don't think anyone else would be able to tell what he said, what with him still half-drunk and now vomiting between words.

"No, you're not," I say lightly. "You just hate throwing up."

"And who... _hurk_... caused that?" he moans.

"The alcohol, technically."

My twin cracks open an eye to glare blearily in my direction, and I realize he actually is... well. Not pissed. But most definitely miffed.

"I'll make it up to you," I suggest as he goes on another round of dry heaves. This time, there's nothing left in his stomach, and by the way his abs are contracting, I know he'll be sore as hell later. I gingerly wrap my arms around him as he slumps over the toilet. "Er. Tell me how I can make it up to you?"

He frowns at me, the fake frown that he puts on when he wants to pretend he's still annoyed. "There will be groveling," he informs me.

"Mm," I hum noncommittally. "Am I permitted to enjoy the groveling?"

"No."

"What, an outright no? Not even 'a bit?' That's mean," I tease, and I'm rewarded when his lip twitches upward. "I suppose I'll just have to suffer then... should I begin now?" I pout, playing with my lower lip in a way I know he likes. The effect is lost when he abruptly hugs the toilet once more, losing some liquid. "... maybe later then."

"Later," he groans. "When I'll remember it. And not upchuck during it."

"That is so _someone's _fantasy," I muse. "Someone, somewhere, is into that sort of thing."

"Not me," he counters firmly, but his faint smile makes me feel a little better.

The bathroom door is pushed open, and I'm not entirely surprised to see Kyouya standing there, arms crossing in frustration as he glares down at us. "...Hikaru. I need to speak with you." His lips barely open to utter the words because his jaw's clenched so tightly. Then he whirls around, a precisely controlled motion, and exits, letting the door close with a bang behind him that is too much for my twin.

"Oh boy," Kaoru moans. The moan turns into another heave.

"Still nauseous?"

He tosses me the driest look I've ever seen.

"Right." I straighten up, hating to leave him. "We'll be right outside. I won't let him keep me long." On second thought, I crouch back down and take his clammy face in my hands to plant a light kiss on his forehead. "Don't go anywhere, okay?"

"I was thinking of participating in the Spring Banquet triathalon... but I suppose I could pass."

We both stare at each other, unsure of whether the situation is too serious. Then he giggles, and I join in, my grin mirrored on his identical face.

"Be right back," I say, softly, pressing my cheek against his.

"I know you will." Besides the raw quality of his throat, I hear something else: raw trust. For a second, I feel a pang of guilt at how the evening turned out. I immediately squash it down. _After all_, I reflect, exiting the bathroom, _what's the use of making myself feel guilty when Kyouya's about to do it for me?_

_

* * *

_

"Hikaru... you have done a lot of dense things over the years I've known you. But this is most likely the densest."

We're standing around the corner from the bathroom in a side hallway, being continually interrupted by waiters on their way to the kitchen. Servers and bartenders stare curiously as they pass, then hurry on, prompted by Kyouya's pointed glaring. It's quite motivating. _Do your job or I will crush you like a cockroach_. This is, regrettably, the best place to have this conversation because it's one of the only spots in the whole establishment that no Ouran student is likely to go.

"Nah," I say with the lightest air I can manage. "Remember when I thought it would be funny to put baby powder in Tamaki's hairdryer while he held that styling class?" I serve him my most serious and innocent expression.

Kyouya doesn't back down from it. Instead, he just meets it with a cool, steely glare that would have most people cowering. I hate to admit it, but it does make me feel slightly ashamed that I said anything at all. How does he do that?

"Fine," I say, a little sulkily. "I'm sorry, okay? It was dumb."

"Dumb?" he hissed, grabbing me by the tie and slamming me into the wall. An incredibly undignified squeak escapes my lungs, along with all the rest of the oxygen I've taken in. "You have _no idea_ what you have cost this club." I open my mouth to make a snarky comment. Unfortunately, that would require air. "Kimichi's family is powerful enough to crush us. You have possibly alienated your audience by revealing that, oh, by the way, you actually are _romantically involved with your twin_. Remember the film two months ago? That reaction will be _nothing_ compared to what happens when the authorities get involved for real!"

By this point, Kyouya's face is dangerously red. I'm a wise-ass, but, unlike many may believe, I'm not completely unintelligent: I keep my mouth shut.

"Here's what you're going to do," Kyouya continues, slightly breathless himself from all the fury he's been pushing out. A server stops walking nearby, open-mouthed at the pair of us until half a glance from my raging friend makes him scurry. It's with difficulty that Kyouya unclenches his fist from around my tie and lets me up from the wall. I straighten slowly, afraid to make a sudden move, much like I would around a hungry mountain lion, or a cave troll. "What you're going to do," he repeats, "is essentially be my public relations bitch for the next month." Uh-oh. "When I say 'greet the guests', you will ask 'with coffee or tea?'. Do I make myself clear?"

"... yes." Gross. I sound meek.

"Your first act of penance will be to host this dance as though it is the last dance of your life. _Because it very likely is._" I flinch as Kyouya stalks off, never once looking back at me.

Okay, maybe I was meek for a good reason: I like staying alive with all my limbs intact.

Muttering, I stalk my way back to the men's restroom, careful to smile at guests as I pass them. God forbid they catch wind of my scolding. I'll never live it down. I thrust open the door to the restroom. "You'll never believe what Kyouya is making me do-" I stop.

The stalls are as deserted as when we first stumbled in, but it's been turned upside down. The golden trashcan, which had perched neatly in the corner earlier, is upended, its contents spilled everywhere. Loose rolls of still-wrapped toilet paper have been scattered from the basket on the counter, and one almost touches my foot where I'm standing. I blink, almost not believing what I'm seeing. Because you know what I'm seeing? _No Kaoru whatsoever_.

"Okay..." I whisper. "Maybe... he's just gone back to join the guests." The memory of him continually heaving surfaces. It's only been about six or seven minutes since I was last in here with him- there's no way Kaoru wouldn't wait to see if he was done being sick. He's too careful when there are guests around to please. My throat tightens up. Something about the weird stillness of this now-trashed bathroom is freaking me out. I just get an odd not-quite-right feeling...

That's when I spot it. I use my dress shoe to kick aside some of the paper towels from the trash and reveal a crumpled blue ribbon. It looks familiar, and I can't place it, but I know it shouldn't be in the men's restroom of all places. I'm reminded of another scene in another restroom, where Kimichi looked in to see if Kaoru was inside-

I pick up the ribbon and instantly remember it curving through hair. A maid's hair. _Kimichi's_ maid's hair. A weight drops in my stomach and I flush hot, then ice cold. I blink once before the reality of the situation hits me. "Oh, _fuck_."


	10. Saved By a Twin

**A/N: **Hi, guys! Thanks for waiting so patiently. I agonized over this chapter because I wanted it to be the perfect mix of action, adventure, mystery, and cliffhanger for you. I think I've accomplished that much at least... prepare for your minds to be blown. : )

Special thanks to boogaloo, TheInfamousCaichie, and liquidity. Their reviews really got me moving this chapter along!

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**Saved By a Twin**

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_Hikaru's POV_

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_

For a minute, I just stand there in the middle of the bathroom, completely in shock. My mind is racing, but getting no where. _First thing to do- tell Kyouya? Scream? Wet myself? Find the car- _my stomach seizes as I decide on that course of action, and I lunge for the restroom door without a second thought. They must be taking Kaoru in a car, of course, and all the limos are valeted. So if I get there within the next minute or so-

I sprint for the main hall, then through it, not taking the time to apologize to anyone. This _can't _be helping my image, especially after the telling-off Kyouya just gave me. I glance around futilely for the bastard, but he's no where in sight. I reach the entrance, still ignoring the questioning looks and guests calling my name, only to scowl around the empty lot in front. Where the hell do the chauffeurs keep the cars once I'm out of them?

A maroon flash of color in the corner of my vision turns out to be the hat on a valet guy, and I stalk up to him, slightly impatient. Okay, I'm very impatient. There must be a terrible expression on my face. I can tell by the way he says, "Can I help you... sir?"

"You're the- er, the valet boy, aren't you?"

Rapid nodding.

"Well, have you-" I spot his name tag. "Tim, is it? Tim, have you recently moved a car?"

He frowns as me, entirely uncomprehending. "How recently?"

I resist the urge to shake him like a dog shakes a piece of meat. "Like the past five minutes recently."

"Hm..." he hums while time marches determinedly on. "I might have. Maybe Korin-san could help my memory?"

I blink at him.

Tim blinks back at me.

_Is this bitch serious?_

I slap the bill into his hand. "Happy?"

He smirks at me and tucks it into his front shirt pocket. "I would've told you for half that."

Before I can think it through, my fist solidly connects with his face, and his feet actually kick out from under him before he crumples. I hiss and clutch my now-throbbing knuckles. "Son of a _bitch_... ow..." I do a little dance in place, mind still revving. "Where did he go?" I nudge Tim the valet guy in the stomach none too gently with my foot, and he makes a choking sound. Fuck. Maybe I should have had him tell me first. I glance around, leery of anyone watching, but all the guests are still inside.

Good.

I crouch down, rocking back and forth a little with impatience, and do my best to "wait" for him to get his breath. "So? Where'd they go? I paid you, didn't I?"

"Haven't left yet... just got... to the car..." Tim wheezes, his face the color of paste.

Jolting upright, I take one half-step, half-leap toward the parking area. Then a thought strikes me,and I kneel down again to swipe back my 5,000 yen note.

"You're lucky I don't take all your tips," I inform him. "Believe me, I'm tempted. Actually... I am going to be swiping one of your cars... soooo..." I fish a key out of the same pocket. "... hope you're not held personally responsible for someone borrowing them. How can you tell which- ah." I spot the license number of the car engraved into the metal. "That's why they call it a valet key..."

Tim makes a sound like a cat with a mangled voice box, which I ignore as I jog off. I can feel the expensive linen shirt I wear clinging to the small of my back, clammy sweat making it stick in the worst way. A shiver works its way through me like the chills of a fever. Where is Kaoru now? I'm terrified that the car's left by another exit. After all, it's not like I have the aerial view of this place memorized the way Mori does.

Oh yeah.

I pull my cell phone from my pocket and hold the bottom right button until it automatically dials Kyouya. Someone _somewhere_ should be aware of what's going on besides me, and since I didn't stop to actually say something in person... I scan the license plates of the limousines I pass by. Nothing matching yet. The phone shrills in my ear, the long pause between rings seeming to grow longer each time until he picks up.

"What?" His curt voice reminds me of exactly how pissed he is at me right now.

"Um... we have a situation," I say, slightly out of breath. Still no match and I'm coming to the end. Why is it always the fucking last one you look at?

"What have you done?"

I have enough of myself left to feel slightly insulted. "Hey, this wasn't _me-_"

"Why don't I believe that?"

I frown. "Fine, blame whoever you want, I don't care. But Kimichi's kidnapped Kaoru."

"_What?_"

"Yeah. They're leaving in a limo soon, I think."

"What's the license plate?"

"I don't _know,_" I grumble. "But I need to go after him."

"Don't," Kyouya says sharply. "Where are you?"

"Uh..." Finally! I find the license plate that matches my key and cross one of the parking lot lanes to get to it. Halfway across, a white limo barrels at me full speed, a wide-eyed, startled driver catching my gaze. "Holy shi-" The limousine roars by, tossing gravel and barely missing me. I can't see who's in it because of the tinted windows, of course, but I can damn well guess.

"Hikaru? Don't do anything rash."

"Uh..." I snap shut the phone. Hey, at least I told him, didn't I?

I unlock the door of the limo and hop inside. It's been at least a year since I've driven a car by myself, and even longer than that if you don't count go-carts as actual cars, but I'm confident any inexperience will be made up for my determination. Hopefully.

I jam the luxury vehicle into reverse and spin backward, trying to keep an eye on where Kimichi's limo went. I miss checking the review mirror to find that limos are, in fact, quite long. _CRUNCH_. I've hit the row of neatly parked Bentleys behind me. Wincing, I pull forward and steer toward freedom. My mind goes on autopilot while I drive (probably not the best thing) in order to take stock.

I, Hikaru Hitachiin, have no weapons of any kind, unless you count the car as a sort of projectile one. All I have is my phone, some change, and the tux I'm wearing. I'm fairly certain you can't actually choke someone with a tie, either, so that option's out.

Really, all I have is the tiny set of kickboxing skills I picked up from when Kaoru and I took that class together. It was so funny at the time, him begging me to go to this class with him. He was the one who wanted to do it- I wasn't even interested. Then we go to the first one, and he realizes he hates it while I kick ass. I went to four classes after that without him admitting defeat, even though he sulked in the back the whole time.

The corner of my lip twitches at the memory. To have times like that again...

I abruptly return to focusing on driving as I pull out onto the main road, the limo ahead barely in sight. Thank god it's a white one. I get the feeling Kimichi doesn't up and run very often, or she'd have picked a less conspicuous getaway car.

What if she's commanded the driver to go straight to an airport or something? A nervous twinge in my stomach makes me queasy at the thought. As much as I hate to admit it, my five classes-worth of kickboxing skills is going to do absolutely nothing useful. I'm going to need Kyouya to kick in fast with some back-up- the army, the marines, the navy, Dumbledore, I don't care who it is.

On the other hand, I muse, it's unlikely that Kimichi's going anywhere fast. She probably hasn't planned for this, and, you know, _chicks_. She's probably going "Oh em gee, my hair's a mess and I need to change into something more comfortable if we're going to be on the run, and can't we stop at Starbucks first?" If she's a typical girl, it'll be the better part of an hour before that car gets anywhere fast.

At least, that's what I'm hoping...

* * *

_Kaoru's POV_

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"We've got to go straight home first! I need to change and do something with my hair. Can't you see it's a complete mess?"

The first thing I hear when I regain consciousness is the sound of Kimichi whining. Her whining is already grating, but the headache I'm developing makes it about a thousand times worse. My stomach rolls from where I lie, which is... well, I'm not sure. I'm afraid to open my eyes, both because I might puke and because bathroom floors don't vibrate and bounce like car floors.

"Miss, with what we've done, we can't stop in at home. We need to get straight to the runway." There's her maid again. What was her name? Masuyo? She sounds completely rattled. My intoxicated self is having trouble putting the pieces of the present together. Plus, I have a horrible taste in my mouth. Perhaps this is just some sort of awful drunk dream?

"Just because we're fugitives, Masuyo, doesn't mean we have to look like them," Kimichi sniffs. "Look, we're here already."

"But-"

"Shut up." Her cold voice convinces me that this is unfortunately real. The floor under me ceases to move, and the sudden silence makes me realize an engine has been rumbling. Okay, car verified. "Grab his feet, will you? Jarvis will help you." I panic for a moment, then decide to play unconscious body. It's an easy game, really, when I'm dizzy and halfway there already.

A car door opens, and the resulting breeze that hits my face is refreshing. Then strong arms lock under my shoulders- they can't be Kimichi's, so I'm guessing they're the chauffeur's. Smaller hands grab my feet, and together they haul me across the limo's carpeting and out the door. I open my eyes enough to see a little. Just the sight of the night sky tilting overhead makes me nauseous and a little dizzy.

Then it feels as though I only blinked, but we're inside, both the maid and chauffeur dragging me through a hallway. I must have passed out again. My vision swims.

"Put him in there," Kimichi's voice says from somewhere by my feet. I shut my eyes fully as I'm placed on something so soft, it could only be a bed. There is the sound of shuffling feet, then of a door closing and the clear _snick_ of a lock. Faintly, I hear Kimichi.

"Ready my things. We're leaving in ten minutes."

I peek out from under my eyelids. The coast is clear. I ease myself onto my elbows and look around.

I'm in what's clearly a girl's room. At first, I think it's Kimichi's, but it doesn't seem to be her style. The walls are a cool, clean blue with one long strip of sailboat wallpaper circling the room. Two bookshelves and a desk take up one side along with a small window. On the back of the door is the name 'Natsuki' spelled in letters cut from faded construction paper that looks like it's been there a while. I wonder who Natsuki is.

On the small bedside table is a glass of water. Hm. It could be drugged with something. I hesitate, then pick it up and look into it suspiciously. It _seems _alright. And if I don't start chugging water like it's my business, I'm going to have a massive hangover tomorrow morning.

I drink about half the water, then get up and limp to the window. It's locked, of course, and when I peer down, I can see we're about three stories up with no where to climb down. Damn. So much for that plan.

Speaking of plans... I'm hoping Hikaru's realized I'm gone by now. It's only been about 25 minutes since he left me in the bathroom. Kyouya's been known to lecture far longer than that. I pace back and forth in front of the window. What if he doesn't even know yet? And if he does know... he must be worried sick.

To tell the truth, I'm getting worried. This is slightly fucked up if you think about it. I'm being kidnapped by one of the customers from my high school host club, for shit's sake, because she's obsessed with me. Who says being popular is easy? Oh yeah, and let's not forget that, by the way, Kimichi now knows I'm in love with my brother. Ugh. I'm wishing I had another drink about now. This is _not _the time when I'd like to sober up.

I leave the window, realizing I've been staring productively out it for the past five minutes, and wander over to the bookshelf. Manga fills the shelves, along with some English novels whose titles I sound out. _Wuthering Heights, The Gospel According to Larry, So You Want to Be a Wizard_.Whoever Natsuki is, she's definitely a voracious reader. And fluent in English, apparently. I pull one of the books off the shelf, curious, and flip it open to see if I can make out any of the words. It falls open to the inside of the front cover, where someone's written a message in Japanese.

* * *

_Dearest sister,_

_Happy 16th birthday to us. Enjoy this- it's a great read!_

_Love, _

_Kimichi_

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_

I remember learning an hour or so ago at the ball that Kimichi even has a sister. Why haven't I seen her around school? Maybe this Natsuki's older and graduated already?

Wait. Woah. Happy sixteenth birthday to _us_? They were both turning sixteen? So...

As if to confirm my thoughts, a photograph falls, backside up, from inside the book. I pick it up and turn it over. Kimichi, maybe a few years younger, smiles back at me from a summer's day. She's kneeling on a checkered blanket, a basket beside her like she's at a picnic. Sitting next to her is a girl who looks _identical_. They're even wearing the same blue dress.

The lock in the door rattles, and I turn around to face whoever comes in. It's Kimichi, hair brushed. She's changed into more casual clothing that's less formal than school attire. For the moment, I file away what I've just learned.

"Kaoru-kun, you're awake," she says cheerfully. "Feeling better?"

"No." My answer's more than a little short.

"Well, you look better," she tries. I don't respond, and with a sigh, she closes the door behind her. I hear the lock catch. And here I'd been planning on overpowering her... "It doesn't have to be like this."

"Like this?" I repeat. "Like _what_? It doesn't have to be like reality, where you've just knocked me out while I was throwing up in a bathroom and dragged me to your mansion to do... something with me?" I'm so furious that words are failing me. I sit down on the edge of the bed.

"It sounds awful when you put it like that," Kimichi protests. "I'm _saving_ you."

"From what, exactly?"

"Your brother." She says it as though it should be obvious, heaving another big sigh after it, eyelashes fluttering downward, and I feel a rather large surge of hatred for her. She chooses that moment to perch on the bed next to me.

"You're saving me from my brother. Great," I bite out. "Perfect. Thank you. Can you let me go home now?"

"You don't get it," Kimichi says seriously. "Now that I know you're in love with your twin, I'm going to help you end that."

I stare at her like she's insane. Mostly because she is. Maybe I'm just not understanding. "What, do you have some secret anti-love potion you're going to force-feed me?"

"No, but in my experience-"

"Which you have, since you're a twin too, correct?" I interrupt.

Beside me, Kimichi freezes.

"That's right," I say triumphantly. Why not play the trump card? I'm working in a limited timeframe here, after all. "I figured it out. This room, it's your sister Natsuki's. And she's your _twin_ sister. It's odd that I've never met her, but I can bet something- she wouldn't approve of you trying to break me apart from my brother." I'm babbling on, not really knowing where I'm going with this. "Why don't you get Natsuki in here? Natsuki could-"

"_Stop saying her name_," Kimichi hisses, and for the first time since entering the room, she loses her calm, friendly composure and sinks down to my level. I scoot down the bed a little to get away from her, but something tells me to keep talking.

"Oh, do you mean Natsuki? Natsuki, Natsuki, Natsuki," I say in sing-song, leaning away in case her hand wants to meet my face again. "Where is Natsuki anyway?"

"She's _dead_!"

"..._what?_!"

Kimichi bursts into tears, and I stare, shocked beyond belief. "Oh, shit," I mutter, out of lack of anything else to say. In two seconds, I've gone from antagonizer to guilty party number one. Shoot me, please. A piece of a conversation from earlier floats across my thoughts.

* * *

_"Can't you see how sick it would be for my sister and I to do that?"_

_"Miss...don't you remember? Your sister is-"_

_

* * *

  
_

"She's dead, okay? She's dead. She died," Kimichi mumbles from beside me. Her words are muffled into her hands, which she's buried her face in. "She's gone."

"I'm so sorry." After a brief hesitation, I reach up to pat her gingerly on the back. This is just too _weird_.

"And you know the worst part?" I can barely make out what she's saying. "I loved her," Kimichi whispers. "I loved her so much."

"I'm sure you did," I say in response, patting her a little more. Did I mention _weird_? "And she loved you too-"

"No, I mean, like you," she clarifies. "I was _in_ love with her."

"... _oh_." Is this a more common thing than I realize? Here I just thought Hikaru and I were a special case.

"I'm glad I can tell you, actually," she sniffs, standing up. Her eyes are all puffy, face blotchy and red. I'm relieved to see she can't cry perfectly as well, because then I really would consider her to be a freak of nature. "And now you know why I'm saving you."

"Er... no?" I draw my hand back as she stands up.

"Because the truth is, Kaoru, that your twin will leave you." Kimichi takes me by the shoulders, looking earnestly into my eyes. "Whether he dies or falls in love with someone else, it can't last. I'm going to save you from that pain. I won't let you get hurt."

"You can't know that Hikaru is going to leave me," I argue. "That's just nonsense."

She smiles sadly, almost patronizingly. "You would learn differently," she tells me. "But don't worry, I'm not having it get to that point. You and I are leaving tonight."

"I'm not going anywhere," I object, just as the door opens. A tall man in uniform walks in, eyes sweeping the room and fixing on me.

"Ah, Jarvis. Excellent timing." Kimichi is back to being the sweet and happy host club guest. There's almost no indication that she's cried, and any sadness has left her eyes. The transformation is too sudden to be normal, and I wonder how often she's pulled it off. There is something creepy and a little psychotic about the way she smiles at me. "Take Kao-kun to the plane."

"Yes, miss."

"Hold it-" I jump back, neatly missing her chauffeur's grab. "I'm not getting on a plane, okay? You need to take me back to the dance." Jarvis' hand latches onto my arm, and I twist in his grip. "There are _people_ who _know_ I am _missing_-" He grabs my other arm, flips me around, and locks both arms behind my back in a kind of single-person frog march.

"Who?" Kimichi says lightly, as though she hasn't a care in the world. "No one knows you're missing yet, not even your brother. Even if they did, so what? They won't know where you are now or where you're going." The confidence in her tone is somewhat disheartening. "I'm going to save you, Kaoru." She touches my cheek gently, and I turn my head away. "We're very alike, you and me. Only you haven't had your heart broken yet. I'm going to make sure it stays that way."

I writhe in Jarvis' grip as we leave the room, my shoes skimming along the floor. Unfortunately, I'm not hampering our progress much as I'd like. I have the sudden wish that I'd paid more attention during the kickboxing classes that my twin and I took together. If only I'd actually watched what the instructor was doing instead of staring at Hikaru's ass the whole time... but damn, what an ass...

Despite my toe-dragging act, we make it to an elevator. Inside, there is a button labeled 'Hangar'. I'm going to assume that means 'Plane Hangar.' The doors close, and I stop struggling. What's the point? Wretchedly, I watch our descent through the various floors. Surely, Hikaru will save me before they get me on the plane. I hope.

I give a mental groan. _O brother, where art thou?_

_

* * *

_

_Hikaru's POV_

_

* * *

  
_

"Where the shit am I?" I mutter, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel. I didn't want to be seen following the white limo at too close a distance, so I waited about ten minutes after it went on up the drive. But now I've come to an actual intersection, with a fucking _traffic light _in the middle of the house's grounds. This is all the Korogawa family's property. Do they really have enough cars going through here to warrant a light? Why not a stop sign?

Before me, the light turns from red to green, and I go on, hoping that there will be some helpful sign. Like one saying "To rescue the twin brother you're in love with who's been kidnapped, turn right."

I almost get my wish.

The front passenger window is rolled down slightly, and it's lucky it is, or I wouldn't have heard the roar of a plane engine starting up.

Seriously? A plane? Right on the property? They don't even have to go anywhere?

My stomach seizes up with anxious terror, and I turn the car toward a gravel road that runs in the direction of the sound. I crunch along in the dark, headlights showing the way until I realize they might be a bad idea. I turn them off and continue to creep along. When I reach a large building, I pull up to the side of it and kill the ignition. "Right," I whisper to myself. "All I have to do is... stop them from getting on the plane. No, sabotage the plane. Maybe throw something into one of the engines. Maybe..."

The roar of the plane crescendos, and I throw open the door of the limousine in time to see it taxi onto a runway, tiny red take-off lights shining along its wings. It's a small plane for the Korogawa family's personal use only, no doubt. It turns on the runway, lining itself up, and begins to move. I stand, frozen, by the open door of the limo as it gathers speed about a thousand feet away from me. "No, no, please no..." I bolt toward the runway, running hard. "_No!_"

Too far away, the plane lifts off into the clear night sky, taking Kaoru (quite literally) out of my reach.

* * *

**A/N:** Remember, folks- main characters get to live through an author's hardcore plots because of reviewers like you. Just kidding!... or am I?


	11. On a Jet Plane

**A/N:** Right, I'm aware that this chapter took Armageddon and a day. But I so hope it will be worth it! Warning: this is the second-to-last chapter in this story. There is one more after this.

My goal is to finish That Kiss Was before NaNoWriMo starts on Nov. 1st. So expect this update to be followed by another where I wrap things up... and perhaps Kaoru and Hikaru unwrap each other...

(worst innuendo EVER)

Srsly though, sex scene next chapter. You'll enjoy it. For now, be content with the action and set-up-for-climax thrills of this one.

A lot of switching of POV in this one, so make sure you keep up!

* * *

**On a Jet Plane**

* * *

_Hikaru's POV_

_

* * *

  
_

"No... no!" I continue sprinting toward the runway as though there's the faint chance that, oh yes, I will catch up and I can just latch right onto the plane and crawl inside. Wouldn't that be nice. Unfortunately, reality takes effect, and the damn thing lifts effortlessly from the ground. My legs fail me, along with any words, and I stumble to a stop in the middle of the dark field. The only sounds are my labored breathing, the crickets, and the increasingly distant roar of the engine. A lump swells in my throat, threatening to burst, but I swallow it. I'm not giving up yet. No way.

I march determinedly toward the plane hangar. The thought comes to mind that it's rather like shutting the door after the horse is out, or however the English saying goes. After all, I'll just find an empty place where the plane was parked. Maybe some oil on the ground to show it was there before it carried away the meaning of my life. A small noise emerges unbidden from my mouth, somewhere between helpless and frustrated and despair.

After five minutes of marching and denying defeat, I reach the building and peer cautiously around. No one seems to be nearby now that my twin's been successfully kidnapped. I whimper at the thought. Casually, I look into the hangar itself, just to validate my beliefs.

And look again, to make sure I'm not hallucinating the plane I see there.

What the fuck? Did I completely imagine it taking off? And did I run a mile across a field in the dark for nothing?

I cautiously approach it, and as I do, lights flicker on. I freeze, a deer caught in the world's largest headlights, but nothing happens. No one shows up demanding to know who I am and what my business is here on Korogawa property. I guess they put out for the motion-activated lights.

A moment later, I notice an empty space beside the present plane that also has oil marks and muddy tire tracks.

Who the hell owns two private planes? If you're not in the mob and unlikely to be on the run, what's the point? Does Kimichi do this often?

I walk up to the second plane, knock thoughtfully on its underbelly. I wonder...

Close to the wheels is a small panel. I pry it open and go for the big green button that begs me to push it. Immediately, stairs descend with a faint hissing from the side like in an alien invasion movie. Cool. I ascend the stairs and test the handle of the door. It gives easily, of course. Why would you lock a plane? It's not like anyone would steal it or anything.

Not like anyone would steal it...

I start to grin. The door opens to reveal a luxurious space that has couches instead of seats, a large screen TV, and plush carpeting. A panel toward the front of the plane no doubt leads to the pilots' cockpit and one toward the back might lead toward a bathroom or storage. I close the door behind me and find a few buttons beside it. Pressing one retracts the hissing stairs. Pressing another turns on spotlight lights inside.

_What if_, I muse, _there was some kind of way to fly a plane even if you didn't know how? Like, oh, I don't know... AUTOPILOT?!_

I practically run to the front panel and throw it aside. The cockpit is gorgeous, of course, with one cushy leather seat and a whole lot of buttons and the steering wheel. I take a deep breath and sit down. Tenatively, I push a button. Nothing happens.

Then I notice the ignition switch and keyhole beside the steering wheel. _What!_ I groan, my plan defeated before it had taken its first breath. Of course planes need keys.

Instinct nudges my chin upward. I stare, head back, at the sun visor on the ceiling. Some hunch makes me pull it down. A ring with two keys falls on my face, causing me to swear and cheer at the same time.

In my pocket, my cell phone buzzes, ringing. Someone's calling.

I check it, just in case it's... rats. Only Kyouya. I send him to voicemail, something he's not likely to enjoy.

I inspect the keys, ready to try one or the other and get this party started. "Right," I mutter outloud, because _someone_ needs to say something about the fact that I'm going to attempt to fly a plane, find the other plane that my brother is on, and eventually land this contraption. Jesus. "Right," I say again. That's when I hear the now-familiar hiss of the stairs descending.

SHIT-

I bolt from my chair toward the main compartment, then lunge back toward the chair and fumble to put the keys back. Shit, shit, shit, sun-visor, get back up there, NOW!

I back out of the cockpit and close the divider. Muffled voices on the other side of the door convince me that someone intends to board the plane for real and wasn't just testing the stairs. Or testing the stairs just to appreciate the cool factor, which I would totally do.

I dance a little jig in place, running through a mental list of options. It's a small plane and I can't count on the bathroom to hide in. I glance up again, this time due less to instinct than to a small plea to any kami-samas up there. Lining the ceiling are rows of storage compartments that could easily fit large suitcases. And possibly me.

I use one of the comfortable couches to reach the storage bins and pop one of the handles. There's thankfully nothing inside besides a few parachutes, a remote with a missing battery cover, and some scraps of paper. I boost myself inside and pull in my legs, shutting the hatch just as I hear the external door open.

* * *

_Kaoru's POV_

_

* * *

  
_

"Kaoru, why don't you have a seat?"

I glare at Kimichi, but Jarvis, still clutching my arms behind me, doesn't really allow for another option; he plops me on the sofa and there I sit. I barely waste a glance around, unsurprised to see an interior that rivals that of the Hitachiin family's plane. Once you've seen one jillionaire's plane, you've seen them all, if you ask me.

Kimichi sits primly beside me, a little too close for comfort, and I scoot as inconspicuously as possible an inch away. She bestows what she must think is a comforting smile. Unfortunately, it only makes her seem a bit insane.

"Why don't we watch something fun?" she says brightly. "What do you like?"

I stare straight ahead, refusing to answer.

"Hmm? Nothing?" she presses annoyingly. "I could do with something funny myself."

I open my mouth, the words 'check out a mirror' on the tip of my tongue, then close it.

Kimichi reaches over to a side table. "Where's the remote?" she mutters and looks at me. I shrug. "Are you sitting on it?" Her hands reach toward my rear, and I leap into the air like a startled gazelle. "Nope. That's okay, we can work it from the buttons here." She flips open a panel and the TV turns on. I slowly sink back into my seat.

While Kimichi channel-flips, I gaze out the window. By now, Jarvis has pulled us out of the hangar and we're rolling across the tarmac, picking up speed. I heave a sigh.

"And the best part is that I have two planes," Kimichi says in response, "so they'll never know which one you're on."

Fantastic.

"Ooh, look! Mythbusters. I love this show."

So do I, ordinarily.

"Do you like it?"

"...no."

"You can pick your favorite show next," she says, patting my arm. I cringe, slide myself farther away from her, and try to tune out everything. I'm wavering on a line somewhere between despair and disbelief. Disbelief that there is no way I could possibly be kidnapped from an Ouran host club ball onto a plane by a mad fangirl. Despair that I actually could be, and have been, and am. Shit. Shit shit shit.

"What the hell?"

I look over at Kimichi in surprise. I've never heard her say a rude word in all the conversations we've had, but here she is, frowning at the TV.

"What?" I ask, despite my initial goal of ignoring her and only giving terse answers.

"I must've hit a button. What is this?" She turns up the volume.

"--starts with the eyes," The TV blares. "She's gotta have those kind of eyes that can look right through the bullshit, to the good in someone. Twenty percent angel, eighty percent devil--" Vin Diesal goes on, and I stare unseeing. _The Fast and the Furious_. Hikaru's favorite. Tears gather before I can stop them, but I don't let them go. What are the chances this would be on?

Kimichi turns the TV back to Mythbusters and I internally rage over the irony of it. Of course _Fast and the Furious_ is playing. Why wouldn't it be? Someone upstairs hates me, clearly.

"Hey," Kimichi protests, and I look at the screen again so quickly that I almost crick my neck. This time, Vin's driving a flashy car in a color you don't see anywhere but Hollywood. A rush of adrenaline shoots straight up my spine into my head, making me dizzy. This isn't a coincidence. This _can't_ be a coincidence. _Hikaru is somewhere on this plane._

The adrenaline, coupled with excitement, jolts me upright to a standing position. Kimicihi blinks at me, puzzled.

"Er... is the bathroom back there?" I point toward the rear.

"Oh, yes." She shrugs absently, goes back to changing the channel. Like she cares if I want to sulk in the bathroom the whole time. I can't call anyone or escape, now can I?

I shuffle as nonchalantly as possible down the back hallway and peer into the bathroom I find there. Empty as empty could be, and trust me, there's not much space to hide anything in there. I cram inside anyway and wedge around to flip the lock behind me. Then I wait.

A few minutes tick by, and I pass them by actually using the facilities. Disappointment hangs around me like a rain cloud... or a noose. Was I wrong? Did I get all worked up over nothing? If I spend much more time in here, Kimichi will get suspicious.

"I'm a boy who appreciates a good body-" drawls a voice above me. I leap back and crash into the sink, head snapping up to look, "-regardless of the make."

"You _ass_--" I whisper, the word breaking off even as I try to pull him from the ceiling.

"Oy, careful," he yelps quietly when I tug at his arm. "Let me turn around here."

"Alright." Reluctantly, I let go of his hand, flexing my own empty one while I wait impatiently. He withdraws himself back into the ceiling and, after a muffled bang, hangs his feet down. I stand on the closed toilet lid to help him.

"Careful," he warns, halfway out. "Augh-" he loses his grip, and I catch him to steady him so that we both stand on the toilet seat. We both breathe hard, staring at each other from inches apart. Then he breaks out one of his wild grins. "And they make that look so tough in movies."

I burst into tears at last, unable to keep them back at him being himself despite everything.

"Hey, hey now, shush." He envelopes me in his arms so I can bury my face in his shoulder. He smells wonderfully like him. Just to feel the warmth of him all around me is indescribably, perfectly _great_. "Stop crying. Geez." His embarrassment makes me laugh.

"I'm really, really glad to see you," I whimper, and I don't care that I sound pathetic. I _am_ pathetic, and if Hikaru knows it, I don't mind.

"Me too," he says, more roughly, and nips me on the ear to coax out another smile. It emerges, as it always does. Then his lips touch mine- soft, warm, inviting- and I kiss him like a drowning man inhaling precious air. Our teeth clash briefly, but neither of us care. I slip on the edge of the toilet lid, wobble. He catches me. The desire in his eyes, though present, shadows over. He's right, we can't be doing this here.

We both close our eyes and take a deep breath. He's the first to speak. "What's the plan then?"

I'm back to frowning. Usually I have a plan. Today... "I've got nothing."

"For once, I do," Hikaru says cheerfully. I've never been happier to hear it. Even so-

"Your last plan involved getting me drunk, and look what happened," I point out.

"Well, this one involves gradually crashing the plane."

"Um..."

* * *

I return to my seat, still faking aloofness. Kimichi hardly registers that I'm back. On the screen, Adam is using duct tape to make a sail boat. Why are Americans so insane? I try to distract myself with the show. This time, though, it's harder. My heart pounds inside my chest like a drummer at three in the morning who just can't shut the hell up. Eventually, the neighbors, sick of the noise will complain. Deep breaths lessen its pace only slightly.

"Kao-kun?" Kimichi asks, concerned. "You look flushed."

"I don't like flying," I answer shortly. My prepared answer seems to satisfy her; she returns to the show, smiling when Jaimie and Adam take their duct tape boat out on the water. Interestingly, it doesn't sink.

The lights flicker overhead, and we both glance up.

"Uh-oh," I say, mock-nervously.

"Don't worry, Kao-kun," Kimichi says, standing up and stretching. "I'll go check with Jarvis that everything's okay." She ambles toward the cockpit at the front of the plane, taking her time. My palms itch with sweat.

_"It'll be a piece of cake," Hikaru boasts. "These things always have redundant back-up systems to land them. I'll just pull out a couple wires, one by one, and force them to land."  
_

_"And what if they don't?" I interrupt._

_"Kyoya's on his way, I think. He called my phone, which means he can track down where we are."_

_"What'd he say?"_

_"I didn't bother to pick up. Sent him to voicemail."_

_"... well, he'll love that."_

_"Exactly what I thought!"_

I wipe my hands on the couch. The lights flicker again. Then the TV shuts off. Somehow, I don't think that the absence of cable will force this plane to land. He'll have to do something a little more drastic-

Abruptly, there is silence.

All along, the drone of the plane's engines has been a consistency I've quickly grown accustomed to. Hell, I barely even noticed them anymore. And now they're gone- oh my god. This is the end. We're going to crash!

The engines kick on again, luckily, before I can have a full-scale panic attack. Kimichi emerges from the curtained cockpit, mouth drawn in a thin line. "We're having engine trouble," she says tightly.

I perk up.

"We're not going to land just yet though. Our emergency system is working fine," she reassures me.

I droop. _Come on, Hikaru_, I beg silently. _Cut some more cables, or whatever you're doing._

Kimichi sits down next to me, and we listen to the engines labor. I fidget and feel something rip. Looking down, I notice that I've been molesting a couch cushion for the past four minutes, and it's now spilling its goose-down feather innards through a gap I created. I set it down gingerly.

A nearly-insubstantial shuffling from overhead almost causes me to look up.

"Did you hear that?" Kimichi stares at the ceiling, curious.

"Hear what?" I bluff.

Then Hikaru falls through the ceiling with the grace of a water buffalo, and our entire plan goes to hell.

* * *

_Hikaru's POV_

_

* * *

  
_

"Goddamn cheap-ass American _planes_," I moan soundlessly from the floor. No one can hear me, because I have no _air_. It has all been squished from my lungs, kind of like when you sit on a beach ball and forget to push the plug in tightly.

Struggling to my feet, I come face to face with a gun so close I wouldn't know it was there unless I crossed my eyes.

"Can I say something before you off me?" I ask crossly.

"What are you doing here?!" Kimichi demands, almost in hysterics. "How did you get on this plane?"

"Twin powers!"

"Put down the gun, Kimichi." Koaru's voice is trembling beyond belief.

Instead, she thrusts it against my forehead. Its tip is ice cold. "You know what, I don't even care how you got here."

"You should, actually, because this plane was just begging to be-"

"I don't care because I'm about to end it now." Her hand shakes, but the grim line her mouth has become and the emotionless eyes are not good signs.

Kaoru stands up.

"Don't move, Kao-kun. It'll all be over. You'll be free of him. You'll never have to be hurt by him again."

"Put the gun down," Kaoru repeats, "because I want the chance to tell him myself."

"What?" Kimichi and I ask in identical surprise.

"Hikaru... there's something I've been wanting to say." His eyes are sorrowful, and a laugh bubbles up in my throat. Listen to him, my favorite little actor. This wasn't in the plan we discussed, but I know the speech he will give. He'll feed her some bullshit and we'll go home. We'll go home to Ouran and everything will be fine again. "Hikaru... I don't love you."

There it is, exactly as I expected.

(It still hurts.)

"I've never loved you." I search his eyes for what I'm looking for. Key signs that he is acting are missing, and they're worrying me. If he were the slightest bit more relaxed with what he were doing, his stance would be to the side. Instead, he's facing me dead-on. His gaze would hold a trace of the mockery I know and love. Instead, they're blank, empty, soulless. A flutter of uncertainty alters my cardiac rhythm.

"The truth is that I always felt pressured into loving you, pressured to be the same as you. Twins all go through that, but we were always in our own little world, weren't we? Closer than most twins." He's stabbing too close to the truth for comfort. "My growth was stifled by you. I never had the opportunity to branch out. You had Haruhi at one point... but I never knew love until Kimichi came into my life." He turns to smile at her, and she beams back, all her dreams come true while mine are crushed.

A memory flits through my brain, from the dream I had weeks before.

_"How could you?"_

_"Hikaru... you know it was all for them."_

"Our little act we had..." Here Kaoru laughs, cold and cruel. It's as harsh as the caw of a crow. "It was fun, wasn't it? Fooling everyone. We succeeded."

_"Our act is a success."_

My lips form the word 'no'.

"For a while," my twin says, ruefully, "even I believed it. That two twins could love each other. How wrong I was..."

I stare wordlessly at him.

"Kimichi-kun." He speaks her name tenderly, lovingly, as he has mine countless times. "May I please have the gun? I... would like to be the one to end it."

"Oh, Kaoru," she whispers, tears sliding down her cheeks. Perfect tears. Beautiful tears. She's even a prettier crier than I am. "You've realized it. You've seen it, haven't you? That he would leave you in the end. That he would hurt you."

"It took me so long," he says humbly.

"But now you know. Yes," she nods. "It's only fitting. Here." Kimichi hands the gun handle-first to my twin, to the love of my life. He could end the situation now. There's no need for the facade to go on. We have the gun. A last hope surges in me, ending when he removes the safety and fits his fingers around the trigger.

"No, Kaoru...Kaoru, I _love_ you..." The words slip from my mouth, words of a dying man, for though there isn't an actual bullet in me yet, the one in my soul should do the job.

"Goodbye, brother," he tells me. "You won't hold me back any longer. I'm done with this game of pretend."

_Game of pretend..._

Then Kaoru gently presses the barrel to my head, squeezes the trigger, and it's all over.


	12. Good Things Come and Epilogue

**A/N: **Jump right into the story. Only one POV for this chapter. My notes are at the end. : )

* * *

**Good Things Come (to those who wait)  
**

* * *

_Hikaru's POV_

* * *

I suck in a ragged breath when nothing happens except for a faint click in the barrel.

"Pow," Kaoru says, a smile playing on his lips. For the moment, he has no idea of the trauma he's caused me.

"Kao-kun..." Kimichi frowns, unperturbed. "Did the gun misfire?"

"Only because I took the bullet out," he answers lightly. I snort.

"Why would you do that?" She still doesn't get it. Some people are just thick. And ugly. She has the misfortune to be both.

"Because I despise you, Kimichi," he says passionately, "and now I can tell you to your face." I actually pump my first in the air. It's what I've wanted him to say from day one since she took my seat at the outdoor picnic. "And, Hikaru--" He turns to me. "You better not have believed that crock of shit."

"Not me," I say with a straight face. Fake hurt still hurts though; like a nightmare, it's difficult to shake off. I'll save worrying about its effects for later.

An injured look forms on Kimichi's face. "You tricked me."

"Duh," we counter in sync and grin conspiratorially.

"I trusted you," she says to Kaoru, stepping toward him. "I trusted you and look what you did!" Her voice soars into an octave five steps above where she normally is. And if you ask me, her normal tone's grating enough. "I was going to save you... I'm still going to save you." She reaches into her blouse as if to pull something out.

"Hey-" Kaoru blurts out, clearly afraid she has another gun on her. So am I. Doesn't she know our country's made the damn things illegal?

I don't give her a chance to do anything.

My fist connects with her face, a solid hit to her perfect, apple-round cheeks, and the bones make a satisfying crunch as they collapse inward. Blood floods her mouth, cutting short her screech as she chokes on it. She falls to the floor, both hands going limp. The pain's made her pass out.

"Hikaru!" Kaoru objects in shock.

"I have been waiting to do that for two months, you conceited _bitch_," I say triumphantly, rubbing my knuckles. They're aching already. It was so worth it.

Kaoru tsks, then leans forward, not very upset despite his admonition. Heh heh. "What'd she drop?"

A piece of paper. I pick it up, turn it over.

It's a small snapshot of her sitting on a picnic blanket in a beautiful dress, light blue sky behind her and the sun shining. I've never seen that expression on her; it's too carefree, too innocent, too relaxed. It dawns on me that it must be Natsuki.

"Even now, claiming to hate her and that she wants to keep you from the same fate... she still carried this picture by her heart," my twin says sadly. It's cliche, but it's true. The thought pops into the back of my mind that maybe I should do the same. Maybe it would make me a better person. Kaoru drops the gun onto the sofa.

Suddenly the plane shakes, and we clutch each other to keep from falling over. I look out the window. Lights of the cities below seem brighter, and they're coming closer. "We're descending?"

A _thwok-thwok-thwok _sound makes me crane my neck out the porthole view to see what's going on. I spy a helicopter, no, _three_ helicopters, all black. They must have been flying sans spotlights before, because I would have seen them coming a mile away and get blinded. There's plenty of light for me to see the familiar symbol and one word boldly spray-painted in red on the side: Ootori.

"Hm," I say, pulling out my phone from where it's been crammed in my suit pocket.

_Eight missed calls_, it reads. _Three new voicemails. Caller: Kyouya (8)_

"Uh-oh," Kaoru comments.

"Hey, without us, what excitement would he have in his life?" I point out. "It'd be all 'Oh Daddy, yes, I control the company with an iron fist, am I good enough for you yet?'"

Kaoru giggles, a sign he's more nervous than amused, and I step forward to put my hands on his shoulders.

"Hey." My eyes sternly draw his up to meet mine. "It's over. It's finished."

Kimichi groans on the floor, and I respond by nudging her none-too-gently with my foot. She doesn't say anything else after that.

"It's over," my twin muses. "Is it?"

* * *

Later that night, after the yelling/lecturing/cursing-out by Kyouya, the hugging by Tamaki, Hunny, and Haruhi, after the lack of reaction from Mori besides two raised eyebrows, after Kaoru's head is examined to be sure Kimichi didn't do any damage when she knocked him out in the restroom, we close the door to our room and breathe a sigh of relief.

Everyone has agreed that we should get some rest.

My heart, still hammering from adrenaline, promises not to let that happen. I'm exhausted but not even remotely sleepy.

"Neh, Hikaru?"

I pause from undoing my tie. "Yeah?" Light seeps from the hallway under our door, illuminating what would otherwise be darkness. We haven't bothered to turn on the lamp in here.

"When I took the gun from Kimichi... when I pointed it at you and said all that-" His voice hitches. "You didn't think I was serious, did you?" I glance over at him from where he sits on the bed, tie loosened, top half of his shirt unbuttoned, and take in his dejected look.

I rub my cheek self-consciously. "You _are_ a very good actor."

"Hikaru..." He comes over to me and holds out his hand. I take it automatically, and he lifts it to his lips. "If I haven't emphasized it enough, I will love you _forever_." He drops a kiss on my palm. "Long past the day I die, more into the forever of forevers, a day past Armageddon. All right?"

"All right," I say, trying to pass it off as a cool thing, like 'sure, we'll love each other forever, duh, cool, I knew that...' and he laughs.

"You little devil," he teases. "I'll show you."

"Please do," I say, no longer flippant, and my serious tone makes him drop the act.

"I will," he promises. "You too?"

"Like I could do anything else. Also, could you not get kidnapped ever again?" I demand. "I think I'll need therapy from watching that first plane fly off, thinking you were in it, that I couldn't get to you in time, and that I would never get to-" The words stick in my throat, as they always do at this point. It's so hard to say anything beyond 'I love you'. It's so hard to communicate what he means to me, that if I lost him I would lose my everything. Luckily-

"I know." Kaoru says simply.

- he knows.

Suddenly I feel as though he isn't close enough to me. I pull him forward using the hand he clasps between his own, and, not expecting it, he stumbles into me with an 'oof'. Perfect. I lock my arms around him and sigh. _Mine_. We stay like that, motionless, for a long time. Then he pulls away a little to lift his chin and look at me. Everything he's already said is in his eyes, which reflect my own in a never-ending cycle of identical pupils. His lips part slightly, tongue darting out to lick his lips like he's thinking to say something.

The hallway light is turned off, plunging us into darkness only broken by the faint moonlight that bleeds in through the window.

I can't resist.

I dip my head and kiss him, taking comfort in the softness of his lips, in the moans of gratitude I get for using a little tongue. Okay, a lot of tongue.

Without letting him go, I drag him backward until his legs hit the bed so that he falls back and I fall on top, still together. _I love you, I love you, I love you-_

He wriggles playfully underneath me, and we roll around on the bed, laughing breathlessly, snatching a few more quick kisses, laughing more. I pin him at both wrists, and he bucks his hips. We both make helpless noises. That's what we are for each other, in the end: helpless.

I let go of his wrists to fumble with the buttons on his shirt, and he does the same to me. We make it a race, where I finish one button ahead of time by cheating and just ripping it off. I help him out of his shirt, and he helps an impatient me out of mine- shirts have never been such a hindrance as they are right now.

Shirtless, he has lost his tie. Mine still remains, and he takes advantage of this fact by using it to yank me down toward him. Lost in his mouth as I am, I barely notice that with his other hand, he has unbuckled my belt, that the button on my dress pants has come undone, and that the zipper has slid silently down.

I _do_ notice when a warm hand slides inside my boxers, hesitantly, yet boldly, and grasps me firmly. I whimper. I've been doing a lot of out-of-character whimpering today, but I don't mind this. You shouldn't either. There are some things that deserve a good whimper or five. Kaoru releases my mouth to search my eyes. "Hikaru?" he says softly.

"Please," I whisper, my breathing harsh, and that's all he needs to hear.

I can feel my pulse in my groin, which only increases when he pushes the dress pants down to my knees and I kick them off. Every movement makes me more and more aware of the placement of his hand, the silky feeling as he caresses the skin there and I groan. My erection throbs painfully in a way that hurts _so good_ . I don't recall ever being this hard in my life, and that includes the time I watched Kaoru strip-tease in the changing room. Which was pretty fucking hot, by the way.

My twin pushes me over (all my limbs have gone to jelly) and attacks my neck, licking and sucking. I'm thinking that my neck by this point _must_ be the definition of an erogenous zone because _oh my god I might come right now_.

The feeling swells and passes over, though if it's just a crest, I'd like to get to acquainted with the whole of the wave. Kaoru releases me for a moment to move his mouth from my neck down to my chest, pausing to take teeth to my nipple. He laughs at my ensuing yelp. Hey, who's supposed to be the dominant one here?

I twist him over, but the truth is that he lets me, and the eager noise he makes when I shove his pants down his thighs to his ankles is proof positive. I lick along his inner thigh, admiring its pale smoothness. Neither him nor I get to see the sun much... but I like it. It means that no one sees this part of him; only I get to do that.

"Hikaru-uuu" he groans, straining toward me.

"Is this a little too torturous for you?" I ask, breathing gently on the tent in his boxers.

"You bastard," he pants, lunging toward me, and I shove him back lazily.

"Patience is a virtue, you know."

He whines in the back of his throat, the need in his voice turning me on further, if that's possible. I can feel my neck and ears burning bright red in the darkness, but it's a good feeling. The flush moves through my body, with it a hunger for him. I urge his hips into the air (a little nudge, and he moves like a Mexican jumping bean) so that I can slide his boxers off.

I drop them onto the floor.

I feel like this moment should be weird. Is it wrong that my twin brother and I are aroused by each other? That we want to pleasure each other so badly? That when I move my hand to grasp the firm length of him at the base, it feels instead that I should have done this ages ago?

Kaoru gasps, and for once he gets a little color in his cheeks. I watch his face intently, moving my hand in whatever way triggers the best moan, sigh, and shudder.

"Oh god... oh god..." he murmurs again and again.

"No, I'm definitely the one doing this," I say. He's incapable of a retort. I'm not even sure he hears my wise-ass remark.

Seeing as it's not feasible we'll be holding a conversation, I decide to put my mouth to better use. I lick my lips. Then I lick his cock, just a nice, long stroke up the shaft.

His hips buck spasmodically. "_Do that again_."

"That good?"

"Mmergh."

I close my mouth over the tip, completely unsure of what I'm doing, but Kaoru doesn't seem to mind. Any movement I make with my tongue appears to be perfect. At least, this is the impression I'm getting based on the noises he makes. I take more of him in my mouth and start moving in rhythmic strokes. Up and down, up and down. He tastes salty, but not in a peanut way. I use my hand and am surprised at how difficult it is to coordinate tongue and hand together.

Still, clearly what I'm doing is unskilled, not wrong.

Kaoru's moans become louder, a little less controlled. I move a little faster.

"Hikaru," he bites out. "I'm-I'm going to- I mean, I think-"

I respond by sucking harder, and his words dissolve into gibberish, then a cry of release. He arches his back and digs the nails of on hand into my arm, the other into the bed. An instant later, he jerks in my mouth and semen floods my tongue. I swallow some reflexively, and taste the rest out of curiosity. It's bitter- how anyone could lick it up in porn like it's sugar water is beyond me. It's certainly not sweet but... it is Kaoru. And it's what I made happen. I mentally preen at that thought.

I look up from between his thighs, which now glisten with perspiration.

Kaoru lifts his head with an apparent huge effort. "You..." he starts helplessly, body twitching in an aftershock, then lets his head drop back again. "Holy _shit_."

"Yeah?" I ask, mock-innocently.

"Yeah," he confirms. "Fuck. Wow. Auuuugh." He shudders again.

I wriggle up the bed to be at eye level with him, and he immediately turns on his side toward me. "Thank you." His thrilled, low tone prompts the fine hair on my arms to rise like zombies from their graves. "_Thank you_."

I can't hold back the remark any longer. "It was my... pleasure."

We both snicker, a little hysterically, and he kisses me, lightly at first. It gradually turns into something deeper that sets my nerve endings on fire. "So," he says, more than a little huskily. "I think it's your turn." His tongue begins a trail down past my navel.

_Thank you_, I say inside my head, but it's not to him (yet)- just to whatever powers made this reality be.

* * *

"-and that's when Hikaru punched her in the face," Kaoru says dryly.

"It was self-defense," I protest, and our surrounding crowd of admirers giggle and tsk in equal amounts. We're sitting at our usual table in the host club, basking in the late-afternoon sunlight that falls in from the beautiful spring day. Designations for some twin-on-twin love are up again. Although crowded, our table seats twelve. Fourteen guests, however, are willing to squish in a bit in order to hear about our escape. And also because Kyouya made us seat that many.

"What else could I do? She was reaching for something that could have been another gun. She'd already pointed one at Kaoru once..." My gaze drifts to my twin, who ducks his head bashfully. "I couldn't let it happen again."

A collective 'awwww' rises from the crowd.

"Then Kyouya made the crew get a filming of us in helicopters," I say cheerfully. "Now 'Hitachiin Brothers: The Great Escape' can be completed!" Several squeals nearly drown me out when I add, "Scheduled for release in May!" Over at the next table, I see Kyouya nod his head thoughtfully.

"Hika-kun..." One of them raises a hand timidly. "Might I ask a question...?"

"But of course," I say with a broad smile. One of my hands props up my chin, and the other holds one of Kaoru's in a warm grip. His thumb strokes my knuckle.

"Are you and Kaoru really, um... are you two _really _together?" She dares to say what the entire school has been wondering.

The other guests lean forward, holding their breath together as I look at Kaoru and Kaoru looks at me.

I grin, barely keeping it from becoming a smirk. "Yes. Oh, yes. We are."

We kiss, the sounds of the fangirls squealing the perfect backdrop. Despite their hopes, they still think they know it's staged, that it's all designed to reel them in, that they allow themselves to believe it-

Kaoru's tongue touches mine between our perfectly welded lips. It's the epitome of keeping something hidden in plain sight.

And it's all mine.

* * *

the end.

* * *

_Epilogue_

_

* * *

  
_

_"Hello. This is the voice mailbox of Hitachiin Hikaru. You have _eight_ unheard messages. Press one to listen, press-"_

Voicemail (#1)

"_It's Kyouya. Do you realize no one's hung up on me since the Kamachi deal, where afterward I bought his company and drove it in the ground, and him to suicide? Call me."_

Voicemail (#2)

_"Where are you? You better not be trying to follow the Korogawa family's limo. Mori, Hunny, and I are bringing in back-up. Please don't attempt anything on your own. Call me."_

Voicemail (#3)

"_I knew you would go after him. You damaged eleven vehicles on your way out of the banquet lot. Four Mercedes, one Bentley, two Roll's Royces, three limousines, and a Ferrari! This is coming out of your earnings as a host, and I am considering upping your designations. I know you said you can't handle more than twelve at a time, but tough shit. You brought this upon yourself. Call me."_

Voicemail (#4)

_"Just wanted to alert you to the fact that the Korogawa's have two planes. No doubt Korogawa will fly out both to use one as a decoy. I repeat, they have two planes, and it's likely that the decoy will take off first. Even so, please don't leave your limo. Wait for us to arrive. Call me."_

Voicemail (#5)

"_What the fuck is wrong with you? We've surrounded the Korogawa estate, took over the grounds, arrested the maid we found hiding in one of the bathrooms, and set up a center of command. In the process, some of my agents discovered your abandoned limousine. Both headlights are shot, one side is entirely scraped up from annihilating those eleven other cars, and the front is crushed. Were you driving it like you would a bumper car? I'm beginning to get angry. Call me. Or else."_

Voicemail (#6)

"_You got on one of those planes, you piece of shit. I can't believe it. After what I called and told you to do, you go and fuck it up. I've had a tracker in Kaoru's body-- and yours, actually-- since you joined the club. You didn't need to follow him. We could have located you both easily. But noooo, I get to view the plane hangar footage and watch you 'ooooh' like a moron as the stairs drop down. You just wait til you fucking land, you'll be hosting until this enormous debt is paid. I don't give a shit if you have to come back to the club after you graduate Ouran. Call me."_

Voicemail (#7)

"_We're on our way in helicopters to intercept your plane. We shot down the other one. Don't make another stupid move, you jackass. Call me."_

Voicemail (#8)

"_Currently flying undercover with no lights on, and I just watched you punch Korogawa in the face through the plane window. Nice job, asshole. Do you think I fucking enjoy covering for your shit? Everyone here saw, and some douchebag already took a picture. I confiscated it, but everyone has cell phones. This is bound to leak. From now on, you're not only my public relations bitch, but also my press whore. You'll be attending black tie events at every charity from now til your senior year. Possibly longer. Don't call me, I'll call you when I come upon the most demeaning event I can muster. Fuck you both."_

_"End of new messages."_

_

* * *

_

**A/N: **Wow. I feel so good when I finish what I start. : )

And who knew what I thought was just a one-shot present for my roommate would end up to be the beginning of such a great story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I'll be showing the finished version to my twin, and I know exactly what she'll say- that I stole most of the details from us. That Kiss Was is less a work of fiction and more one of fact with a few of my favorite twins involved.

In the meantime, I plan to show up as an Ouran Host Club guest (yellow dress and all) at this upcoming year's AnimeNext in NJ. Maybe I'll see some of you there?

Additionally, for those of you who are doing NaNoWriMo, would anyone like to get together in AIM or on LiveJournal and race with word count? I need some serious motivation. I've never won NaNoWriMo before and I'm nervous as hell. D :

Last, but hardly least, I have the thread of an idea for a sequel. The more reviews I get on this final chapter, the more likely that will be to happen. Your reviews are food for my muse, as always, and I read them over and over again. I can't even bring myself to delete them from my email inbox until I publish a new chapter. So please take pity and feed the muse! Maybe he'll crank out the first chapter of a sequel before Christmas. Thanks again for all your kind words, your (helpful) criticisms, and even the reviews that say 'UPDATE SOON PLZ.'

See you in the next story!

* * *

_"To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides." - David Viscott_


	13. What Is This I Don't Even

**A/N: **Just wanted to write a little note to let all of you know that the sequel to That Kiss Was is well underway. : D Thought-process-wise, anyway.

Not only that, but I now have an overly enthusiastic beta who will be obsessively checking over my work and ensuring there are fewer typos and silly mistakes. This will be a huge improvement because I am horrible at keeping track of things. That, and my muse is fairly nonexistent. Don't worry, guys- this chick will whip me until I produce a complete sequel that wraps up every last plot point.

Such as, what happened to Kimichi? How does she even know Kaoru and Hikaru originally? What will happen to our identical heroes now that the cat is out of the bag, or should I say, the twin is out from under the table? (Ooer!)

(Sorry, I apologize, that was fucking terrible- in return, a tiny itsy bitsy spot of nonsense.)

* * *

**(From Hikaru's POV)**

**

* * *

  
**

"What's up, puddin' cup?"

I start from my spot in bed, upsetting the cup of tea that had balanced precariously on the tip of my knee. A deft hand quickly snatches up my Blackberry before it can be exterminated in the flow of hot liquid. "Shit-"

"Sorry," my twin says at the same time, in a guilty tone. "I didn't realize you were so focused-" Together, he and I scramble to pick up the papers spread everywhere over the comforter before the tea can get to them.

"It's this stupid benefit you-know-fucking-who has me working on" I grumble, hastily piling the papers in a big ol' pile that I'll sort out later. "I was working on the guest list. Did you know that Kyouya is actually having me arrange them based on who is related to who-"

"-related to _whom_-"

"and who they want to sit with and who can't sit together, and arrrrgh." I crush my palms against my eyes, watching the stars burst behind them.

"Tell you what," Kaoru says from right next to my ear. I take away one palm from that eye and look at him. His expression is an inch away and serious. Mmm. Serious Kaoru is seriously sexy. I drop both hands. Those lips pursed in thought, that minuscule line that forms exactly above the bridge of his nose and between his eyes....

But, physical perfection aside, I don't see any way that he could possibly make this better. Technically, it's his fault that I'm even being shouldered with my new position as Ouran High School Host Club Assistant to the President in the first place. It's his fault that I have to order flower arrangements, find caterers, and turn on my schmooze voice when I confirm reservations. It's his fault ever since he rolled out, drunk, from under the goddamn table.

Okay, yes, yes, I hear you. _But you're the one who gave him the drinks!_

Yet who drank them?

... I rest my case.

"Go on," I say. He tips his head, smiling at me and sensing what I'm about to come out with. "Please plant within my mind- our minds- some fabulous concoction of a plan that will make everything better. And I do mean _everything_."

"What if..." he murmurs. "We take this guest list..." His fingers pluck it from the hodgepodge in the bed, and he waves it in front of my face. "We take it, and we do this." He moves it from hovering under my nose, nearly bestowing a papercut, to over the edge of the bed. Then he drops it.

We both watch it go fluttering toward the floor. I slide my eyes to him. He meets my gaze, and I catch my breath at his steady expression. Without speaking, he raises his hands to the top button of his shirt and undoes it. Then he undoes the second one.

I'm not him. I need to have the last word... or two.

"Go on..."

* * *

Reviews are beautiful, and I have loved all of them If you still feel they haven't done enough, check out my profile for my email and motivate the crap out of me. Then put me on author alert so you can tell when the actual sequel is uploaded...

PS: Any errors in this passage are my fault. I meant to write a note, not an extra bloody scene. XD Muuuuuuse, you have come back!


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